The Unbelievers
by Tabbycat2000
Summary: Sequal to Music of the Heart! 10 years later, Never-Land is falling apart at the seams- and the only ones who can fix it don't believe anymore. Now Complete
1. Prologue

The Unbelievers

Prologue

  
  
  
  


The streets were dark and frigid, the once bustling metropolis now empty and barren. Snow was falling- it had never done that before. Not in Miami.

Morgan shivered. The internal heating system in her jacket had long ago fizzled out, leaving her to try and keep out the cold with a thin denim sheath that did no good. She was pale, lips blue with cold.

"We're the last, aren't we," she said, words shuddering through the still air. DJ nodded, breath frosting the air.

"Don't worry, Morgan. We'll survive somehow," said DJ, sounding far more confident that he felt. No one would take them in- they were too young. People were afraid they carried the Plague. The fact that only children died of it didn't matter- everyone was terrified of dying in that terrible manner, skin crinkling up and falling away, organs disintegrating within. A childhood nightmare made solid.

Lights skittered by in the sky above. Searchlights. The aircraft were probably hovers, or Morgan and DJ would have heard them. Three years of living like an animal will hone your senses, tune you to the world until you're not sure where it ends and you begin.

"Let's go," said DJ, voice low, hurried. "We'll be shot if they find us."

Morgan nodded absently, barely hearing her brother's voice. She just felt so lost, she was almost drowning in it. She would be fifteen in a week, marking the third anniversary of her life on the streets. Three years lost, hiding from bacteria of all things. A virus that struck without warning.

Only the street rats were saved, and even many of them fell. Morgan thought it might have been a planted virus in the water supply that got out of control- it covered the whole earth now.

Or at least, what was left of it.

"Come on, Morgan."

Morgan took a deep, shuddering breath. "All right. Let's go."

They turned and began searching for somewhere to spend the night, half-certain they wouldn't wake to see the dawn.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Peter sat bolt upright, hand clutching his chest. He grimaced- it was happening again. A deep, tearing pain in his chest, like someone was tugging on his heart and lungs. He could barely breath- he just sat there wheezing, trying not to panic. This was the worst attack he'd had yet.

"Piotr?"

Peter forced himself to stop hyperventilating. "Mmm?"

"You all right?" Levi squinted at him in the darkness, eyes unfocused with sleep.

Peter nodded, waving off her concern, already feeling the pain slip away. "I'm perfectly fine. Go back to sleep."

Levi watched him a moment longer, then sighed and rolled over, quickly falling back to sleep. Peter waited until he was sure she wasn't awake, then got out of the bed and walked to the window.

He clutched the smooth windowsill with both hands, trying to calm his nerves. These attacks... sometimes he almost thought the Fade was swooping down on him, reaching for him with oh so gentle claws. But that wasn't possible- he was still physically only about nineteen, and the Fade didn't start until one looked to be twenty-seven or so. He was too young.

But if it wasn't the Fade, it was something deep inside the fabric of the island, falling apart with every instant. He was sure that was the cause of it- he was tied into the magic that was Never-Land- he was the anchor, and without him things fell down around their ears. He wasn't arrogant, rather he was weary- he would love to pass it on to someone else and just be a goof-ball all the time.

He rubbed his sternum, wincing at the memory of pain. It had stopped, but the sense that something was wrong still lingered.

"What's happening?" he murmured to himself, staring sightlessly out at the ocean waves far below. Siren song, faint and distant, drifted up from the sea.

Peter honestly didn't know, for the first time in his extremely long life. And it frightened him.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N- This chapter may seem a little choppy (to my mind, anyhow) so bear with me. Anyway, since I missed it in the last chapter- if you recognize it from the book or the movies, it ain't mine. Otherwise it belongs to me.

  
  


Chapter One

  
  


It was just after sunrise, the clouds still vaguely pink around the edges. Fresh golden light was everywhere, the breeze was fresh and fragrant.

Knuckles crawled out of her bed and fell on the floor with a heavy thump. She gave a slight yelp and jumped up, spitting her hair out of her mouth. She rubbed her face and ran her fingers through her tangled hair, wondering why she always had the first shift of the day. This was cruel and unusual punishment, making her get up before noon.

Once upon a time Knuckles had been a scrawny ten-year-old girl who was always cheerful and always ready to play a joke. That was still true, except for a few details- Knuckles had, over the past ten years or so, aged from scrawny ten-year-old to coltish sixteen-year-old. That and she had developed a healthy distaste for mornings, as you can see.

"Knuckles! Get up!" TK stuck her head in the doorway on Knuckle's small room, annoyed with her friend. "We'll be late!"

"I know!" Knuckles grabbed some clothes off a handy chair and pulled them on, momentarily getting lost in her tatty tunic. She grabbed her boots and didn't bother putting them on before flying out the door (literally), the very picture of the harried teenaged girl.

"Amanda's gonna kill you," said TK as they flew through the tangled mass of tree-limbs towards the main platforms. "We were supposed to be there ten minutes ago."

"Kill me? What about you?"

"I was waiting for you!"

They reached the kitchens a few minutes later, going about their duties as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Which it wasn't- Knuckles was usually late for kitchen duty.

Knuckles was peeling a mamee-apple when she felt someone breathing down her neck. She stiffened and slowly turned around.

It was Amanda- tall, slender, attractive, and made of diamonds, it seemed. No one was stricter than her, or meaner. Something the boys despaired of- for a teenage brunette, she sure was anal retentive.

"Where were you?" asked Amanda in a deadly whisper. Knuckles gulped despite herself.

"I accidently slept in."

"How many times must I tell you to be on time! You seem to think that we can just wave our hands and breakfast will be magically prepared!" Amanda ranted, gesticulating furiously. "It doesn't work that way, Elizabeth!"

Knuckles winced. Amanda was the only one who ever called her by her true name, and all that did was make her loath it even more.

"It's Knuckles."

"I don't care what your name is, you will be on time tomorrow, missy!"

"All right."

A boy a few feet away snickered. Amanda whirled on him and let loose the fury of her soul. Knuckles grinned and didn't feel in the least bit sympathetic.

After Hurricane Amanda had passed, Knuckles decided to do the humane thing and sooth the boy's feelings. But rather than being mollified, the redhead was giggling so hard he could barely breathe.

"Scrabble? Are you okay?" asked Knuckles, eyes crinkling in amusement. Scrabble looked up at her and broke into gut-wrenching, snorting laughter.

"Scrabble?"

Scrabble wiped his eyes and grinned up at her. "I'm sorry, but that was just too funny," he said, Russian accent thickened by his recent intense emotion. "I mean..." He collapsed into laughter again.

"What are you on about?"

Scrabble forced himself to stop laughing long enough to respond. "I saw her making out with Dean last night," he said, before breaking out in laughter again.

Knuckles stared at the boy in confusion. "How does that make this funny?"

Her only answer was breathless giggling.

Knuckles threw her arms up in defeat, unable to resist a giggle of her own. "You're mad, Scrabble. Absolutely mad."

TK looked over Knuckles shoulder, frowning at the hysterical twelve-year-old. "What's up?"

"Scrabble thinks it absolutely hysterical that Amanda is up here chewing us out for being late while she was snogging Dean last night, and I don't understand it."

TK stared at Knuckles, then laughed. "Knuckles, think about it- Amanda is the ultimate anal-retentive, and she's frenching a guy?"

"I still don't get it."

TK rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Let's hurry up- breakfast starts in twenty minutes."

Knuckles shook her head. "Whatever you say, TK."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Levi whistled tunelessly, drifting above the beaches. It was a mere formality, really, patrolling the shores to be sure the wraiths hadn't returned. The last of them had been destroyed years ago, and no new ones had come in the intervening time. But no one wanted to take that chance. And so the Lost patrolled the mountains and shore, the red-skins the forests, the mer-folk the ocean. 

Ten years... it seemed a dreadfully long time, but it had sped by so fast. By all rights Levi should be at least twenty-five years old, but she still looked like she was maybe fifteen or sixteen years old. Not that she was complaining- who wants to get old?

And it was absolutely wonderful, being able to finally have the life denied her so long ago. She had her people (after a fashion) she had Peter, and she had Griffin.

That reminded her- Griffin had been making mischief again, confusing jar labels in the kitchens, along with his friends. She'd have to give him a nice, long lecture about that. But it'd go in one ear and right out the other- five-year-old boys never listen. Especially hers.

A vague blue shimmer on the beach drew her out of her reverie. She couldn't tell what it was from her current altitude, so she flew lower to try and see what it was.

Levi felt as if she'd been dumped into a vat of ice water. Her chest clenched up and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. She only stayed aloft by sheer force of will and long experience.

It was the old sea-dragon, Janus. He was half-in, half-out of the water, and Levi knew without a doubt what had happened.

He was dead.

She dropped the last fifty yards to the ground, barely catching herself before going sprawling in the sand. Then she bolted towards the still form, hoping desperately that he was only sick, that he wasn't really dead.

He really was dead, had died only recently- maybe earlier that morning. Levi let out a strangled sob and sank to the sand.

How could this happen, she wailed in her mind. Janus was as much a part of Never-Land as the trees and earth. There was something dreadfully wrong here, beyond the fact that her best friend after Piotr had just turned up dead on the shore.

Maybe the mer-folk knew what had happened... Levi steadied her nerves, forced herself to stop crying- she had something to look for now, something to focus her mind on. She could mourn later.

She left her boots, bow, and quiver on the shore. She waded into the cold water-despite it always being summer in Never-Land, the water never got above fifty-five degrees or so-and took a deep breath. The mer-folk weren't far off, their music was tickling right at the edge of her hearing.

As she swam, she hoped she could find an answer. If she couldn't.... it didn't bear thinking about.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The sun had been up for only an hour. Peter was doing what he did every morning- go over current events and problems with the Council (about ten other teens, including Levi who was on patrol at the moment) and arguing over the expansion issue. He felt like a henpecked politician on this particular day.

"Oh come on Slightly, we are not either crowded," said Nibs, rolling his eyes. "People just insist on spending all their time on the main platform."

"Then we ought to move things around, spread them out," suggested Tootles. "That should work."

"How are we going to haul huts around?" asked Slightly. "Dismantle them piece by piece?"

Peter wasn't paying attention. It was almost ridiculous- a bunch of teenagers acting basically as a town legislature. Now he'd seen everything.

A strange, numb feeling settled into his arms. He passed it off as being in one position for too long. But then his legs fell numb too, and the painful tugging sensation started up again.

A moment later Slightly heard a soft gasp. He turned and saw Peter with his head on the table, trembling, flesh pale. A soft moan escaped from Peter.

"Peter?"

* * *

  
  


Morgan groaned and rubbed furiously at her eyes, squinting at the pale light. DJ poked her in the ribs again.

"We've got to get moving," he insisted, ignoring Morgan's muffled, rather groggy protests. "They're sending in ground forces, and I'm not about to be hunted down like a rat."

Morgan hauled herself to her feet. "There's nowhere to go," she said bitterly. "Why bother?"

DJ stared at her silently, rather shocked. Morgan had never been so negative before- she was usually the one pushing him to stay alive, not the other way around.

"We can try," said DJ sharply. "Let's go."

Morgan wrapped her jacket around her thin body and followed her older brother out of the abandoned restaurant and into the frigid, wind-scoured streets. She could hear the slight, almost imperceptible hum of one-man hovers, maybe a few blocks away. Despite her newfound depression, her heart picked up speed, sending adrenaline through her veins like fire.

They needed no words. They simply bolted down the street, away from the humming sound, towards the beach. Hovers didn't work right on the sand, maybe they could get away.

All she could hear was the pounding of their shoes on the cement, her own heartbeat, the whistling wind and the deadly humming. All she could think of was getting away.

They reached the beach. But they didn't stop there, they kept running right to the edge of the icy water. Far away on the horizon were red flashes of volcano fire- ever since the bombs, volcanos had been everywhere, spewing ash to increase the effect of the newborn nuclear winter.

"We'll swim," DJ panted, tearing off his shoes and stuffing them in his backpack. "Gimme your shoes."

Morgan didn't even think, she just pulled them off and gave them to her brother. The sand was cold, harsh against her bare feet. She hadn't worn socks in over two years.

"Let's go."

They waded into the surf, the water biting through their clothes with a vengeance. Some distant part of Morgan's mind was screaming about sharks and hypothermia, but she ignored it.

Then they were swimming, out towards the red flare. The Keys were out there somewhere.

As she swam, the cold sank into Morgan's bones until all she could do was keep her limbs moving, keep her head up. And all she felt was despair.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Levi surfaced for air, gasping. She'd seen the edges of the mer-folk city, she should be there soon. She had to stay underwater to find it properly- it drifted with the tides, and no one above the sea could ever be sure of its position.

The entire fabric of reality shuddered. For half an instant Levi was in another ocean, cold as ice, surrounded by gray sky and darkness. Then she was in Never-Land still, fear settling on her like a lead weight.

Something was very, very wrong.

The very edges of the horizon were turning black.

Levi forgot all about trying to speak with the mer-folk. She shot into the air and flew as fast as she could to the Lost settlement, her thoughts one long soundless scream.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Knuckles' hand slipped and she cut her finger with the peeling knife. She yelped and stuck the wounded digit in her mouth, scowling as Scrabble laughed at her clumsiness.

"Oh, shut up," she muttered mutinously. She pushed a lock of wayward blonde hair behind her ear and went back to her task, suddenly grumpy.

"Knuckles! Look!"

"What?"

"Just look!"

Knuckles gave an exasperated sigh and stood up to tell TK off. But her jaw dropped all she could do was stare. 

The horizon had turned black that darkness. It was as if the edges of Never-Land were being swallowed up. The darkness was creeping ever closer, oh so terribly slowly.

"Uh-oh," Knuckles whispered.

The darkness paused, as if hearing her. Then it swooped down on them like a great bird of prey, shrieking silently, devouring all in its path.

Knuckles didn't even have time to scream.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

  
  
  
  
  
  


Levi landed with a hard thud, forcing all the air from her lungs in a sharp grunt. She felt dizzy, her world spinning in grey circles.

She steadied herself, organized her thoughts into something beyond mere chaos and clutter. Remembered what had happened, what she'd been doing.

Griffin. Her chest contracted in panic. He'd been only yards away when they were all swallowed up... where was he?

"GRIFFIN!"

No answer. Levi stood shakily and took in her surroundings- high-tech city streets, empty and lifeless, cold. Snow was falling from the steely sky. Goose-bumps prickled across Levi's bare arms.

"GRIFFIN!" she screamed again. "GRIFFIN, WHERE ARE YOU!"

She began walking, eyes flickering for any sign of Griffin- he'd been wearing that ridiculous yellow shirt Mad had given him, he'd stick out like a sore thumb here.

She heard a muffled sniffle from behind some metallic rubble. A small child, frightened and alone. She instantly darted over to it, looking into the tiny space beneath.

There he was- shivering, sniffling, scared out of his wits, hazel eyes magnified with tears. He gave a little cry and came barreling out from under the rubble, wrapping his arms around Levi's neck so hard she almost couldn't breathe. Not that she cared.

"It's okay," she soothed, rubbing the boy's back.

"Mommy, I'm scared," Griffin whispered against her neck. "What happened?"

Levi shook her head, looking sightlessly out onto the new, strange world. "I dunno, Griffin."

"Where's everyone else? Where's Da?"

"I don't know."

"Wanna go home."

"Me, too," Levi murmured. "Let's look for the others, find out what happened to us, okay?"

"Okay," Griffin hiccuped. He relaxed his death-grip enough for Levi to stand up and sling him over her hip. He was getting too big for such things, but she didn't care. She wasn't going to risk losing sight of him again.

The streets were empty as a cemetery at midnight. No sound, but for the wind hissing through ghost-structures of metal and plastic and glass. Levi had no clue where they were- she didn't recognize it. She knew it was the Other World, but where? And more importantly, when?

"Who's there?" someone barked from an alley. Levi jumped and Griffin let out a soft cry of fear, burying his face in Levi's shoulder.

"Levi," she replied cautiously to the caller. She couldn't place the voice.

A rangy-looking teenage boy stepped out from the shadows, the remnants of what had once been an expensive leather jacket clutched about him. Dean, Levi realized, relaxing. He hadn't changed at all since that day on the highest platform, except for his punk attitude.

"Seen anyone else?" asked Dean anxiously, his heavy French accent sounding oddly sharp against the other background noises. "Any of us? Or the red-skins?"

"No," Levi sighed, adjusting Griffin so as to carry him more comfortably. "Just Griffin and me."

Dean stepped closer and held out his tattered jacket. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt underneath- more than Levi, who was sleeveless, and Griffin, whose shirt was light and airy for a Never-Land summer. Not an Other-World winter in a strange place. Levi accepted it gratefully and wrapped it around the shivering child, ignoring her own discomfort. She'd survive.

"Can we fly here?" asked Levi, afraid to know the answer. Dean shook his head.

"No. I've tried already. Just scraped my hand. We are well and truly stuck, my friend."

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Knuckles surfaced, sputtered, sucked in great lung-fulls of the life-giving air. She kicked desperately to keep her head above water, still trying to figure out just what had happened and where she was. She hadn't been swimming, that was certain.

Ah-ha! A beach. She swam towards it, the brisk movement keeping her from getting cold even in the frigid ocean.

"Who's there?" someone yelled. Knuckles didn't answer, she had only a little ways to go to the beach. She pulled herself up on the sand and lay their gasping and shivering.

"Who's there?"

"Kn-knuckles," she gasped, shivering convulsively. "Who're you?"

A pair of feet moved into Knuckles' currently limited field of vision. A hand reached down to help her stand and she gratefully accepted it, letting the stranger pull her to her feet.

"I'm DJ," said the stranger, a teenage boy of about seventeen or so. "What're you doing here?"

Knuckles shook her head and wrapped her arms around her body, wondering where she could get some dry clothes. "No clue," she said, Australian accent thickening as she spoke, due to the cold and her shivering. "Where am I?"

"Florida Keys," DJ replied. Knuckles absently noted that he, too, was soaked, but he seemed to be used to it, or at least he wasn't shivering that much.

"What's that?"

"You're not a local, are you." It wasn't a question.

Knuckles began trying to get the wet sand off her likewise wet clothing. "That's a bit of an understatement," said Knuckles wryly. "As if the accent didn't give me away, eh?"

"Yeah." DJ chewed on his lip for a moment, indecisive, then spoke again. "My sister and I have a fire going up the beach a-ways. You're welcome to join us, if you like."

Knuckles had no idea how generous DJ was being- in his world, to invite a stranger to join you was tantamount to purposely injecting yourself with the Plague, or asking a thief to scurry off with your food supply. But DJ had, for a moment anyway, decided that he was tired of being lonely and wanted someone besides his sister to talk to.

"That would be smashing," said Knuckles, relieved that she'd be able to dry off before she turned into a walking icicle. She'd never been in temperatures this low before- in Never-Land it was always warm anyway, and in her country of birth it was considered cold if it dropped below fifty. Thirty-degree weather was utterly foreign to her.

They tromped off down the beach, stomping to keep warm. Knuckles kept breathing on her fingers to keep them from stiffening with cold.

Morgan looked up from the flames when she heard footsteps, expecting to see DJ. And she did, but he had a petite blonde girl in tow. Not good.

"Are you nuts, Donovan Jacob!" she shrieked. "What do you think you're doing, bringing a stranger with you?!"

Knuckles was startled. She hadn't thought she would be greeted with such a violent reaction. "He was only being nice," she said nervously. "I'll go elsewhere, if it bothers you that much." She didn't know this world, didn't know the rules. She wasn't going to risk getting herself in trouble.

Morgan gave the new girl the fish-eye. "How old are you?"

Knuckles, trying not to stare at the ridiculous nature of the question, considered her answer for a moment. "I think sixteen, but I'm not sure," she said truthfully. "Why?"

"Duh. The Plague, genius," said Morgan caustically. "Sit down and dry off. I'm Morgan."

"Knuckles." Knuckles took up the invitation and plopped down on the damp sand, grateful for the sudden warmth of the fire. Morgan scooted to the other side of the fire. DJ plopped down, uncaring of anything beyond the flames.

"What's the Plague?" asked Knuckles tentatively. She didn't want to expose the fact that she was far from local, but she would have to figure out what was up to stay alive here.

The two teens stared at her in silent shock. Knuckles' eyes flickered between the two of them, uncertain.

"How can you not know what the Plague is?" asked DJ, completely flabbergasted. "It's only killed everyone under fourteen on the face of the planet."

"Well... okay," said Knuckles hesitantly. "What year is it?"

"Are you a psychiatric escapee or something?" asked Morgan shrewdly. "Duh, idiot- it's twenty-one thirty-two."

"AD?"

"Um, yeah!"

"Just checking," said Knuckles, trying to be lighthearted and failing miserably. "Say, have you seen anyone else dressed like me?"

"No," said Morgan flatly. She was looking at Knuckles with suspicion increasing in her blue eyes.

"Are you all right?" asked DJ, concern and pity intermingled in his voice. "You're not really nuts, are you?"

Knuckles threw her arms up in defeat. "I don't know! I don't know anything anymore! I just want to find my buddies and go home, but I can't even fly, never mind track down everybody!" She giggled hysterically. "Never mind. Never-Land!" She continued giggling, her mental constitution severely depleted by events of the past half-hour or so.

"Huh?"

  
  


* * *

  
  


Peter lay spread-eagle in the street, wheezing. The pain... he thought he might have blacked out for a moment, it was so intense. It was like he were being ripped to shreds from the inside out. Most unpleasant.

He'd never really had a problem with the deep, unexplainable connection to the world that was Never-Land- it was just part of who he was. Only now that it was gone-the connection and the place- did he realize how much of him it was, intensifying his senses. He felt strangely... empty, now.

He pushed himself to his feet. It took him only an instant to realize the ability to fly had been wrested from him, like so much else. The next thing he noticed was the temperature.

It was absolutely freezing, and he was dressed for ninety degree weather. He shivered and rubbed his arms, goose bumps appearing on his suddenly pale, chill flesh. He looked around, taking in his urban surroundings.

"Hello?" he called warily. "Anyone out there?"

A sharp clatter a few streets away caught his attention. He walked towards the origin of the sound, cautiously- millennia of survival living will teach anyone not to rush in to anything, especially not in an unfamiliar environment.

"Who's there?" he called again, his voice sounding oddly hollow in the silence of the ghost-city.

Three figures crept out from the alleyway. One a tall, rakish boy of seventeen or so and indeterminate nationality. The other two were a teenage girl with long, tangled dark hair and a dancer's form, the last was a five-year-old boy, shivering in the girl's grasp.

Relief flooded through Peter's entire being. They were all right. One less thing to worry about.

"Levi! Griffin! You all right?"

Griffin let out a yell, wriggled out of Levi's arms, and bolted down the street. "Da! We found you!"

Peter kneeled just in time to catch Griffin, who otherwise would have been sent sprawling by his own unbalanced momentum. "Whoa! Slow down!"

"Where were you, Da?"

"Looking for you, of course. All right, Griffin?"

The child nodded. His lips were turning blue, Peter noted with some dismay, even with the enormous tatty jacket wrapped around his spare form. "Yeah. Cold."

Peter stood up again, Griffin clinging to his hand, just as Levi reached them. She was even colder-looking than her son and was shivering terribly.

"G-good to s-see you," she stammered. "What h-happened, Piotr?"

Peter shook his head. "Your guess is as good as mine. Where are we?"

"No cl-clue. America somewhere."

"Hello there, Pan," Dean greeted, finally reaching the impromptu gathering. "Any news?" He tried to be nonchalant but his concern and apprehension shone through in his clear grey eyes.

"No."

"It's getting dark, we need to find shelter," Dean suggested, waving vaguely at the overcast sky. "Better hurry."

"Yeah. Wanna ride, 'Fin?"

"Yup!" said Griffin instantly. Peter picked him up and managed to get him riding piggy-back. The group started down the snow-flecked streets, looking about warily.

"I've known something was wrong for a while," Peter said softly. "But this..." Levi nodded, absently clasping his hand. "Yeah. It's crazy."

"That's why I kept waking up in the middle of the night all the time- I'd have these weird attacks, like I couldn't breathe, but I knew it wasn't me- it's hard to explain-"

"You're the anchor, Peter, I know you're connected to the land," Levi interrupted. "Why didn't you mention it? Then the thing this morning might have made sense."

"What thing?"

Levi took a deep breath. "I found Janus dead on the beach," she said heavily. "He's as much a part of Never-Land as you are, and I was heading back when everything hit the fan."

Dean decided to put his two cents in. "Any idea what might have caused it?"

Peter shrugged, making Griffin bounce slightly. "Only a real calamity in this world could have caused it- Never-Land needs an anchor, but more so it needs faith to exist. People who believe."

"Maybe there aren't any more," said Levi, so quietly Peter could barely hear.

"Maybe so," Peter agreed. "But if that's the problem, then..."

No one needed him to say it.

They all knew they would never be able to go home.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

  
  
  
  


Light was creeping back over the world, filtering through steely gray clouds and the odd snow flurry. Waves crashed and rumbled, as if in complaint of the sudden drop in temperature.

Three teenagers were sleeping on the beach, propriety forgotten in favor of warmth. They were huddled together beside what remained of the previous night's fire, shivering in their sleep.

One of them let out a sharp cry and sat up, trembling from more than just cold. She clenched her fist in the sand, using the sensation to pull herself back into reality.

Knuckles took a deep breath, wincing as the chill air bit into her lungs. She ran a hand through her tangled out, simultaneously trying sort out the equally tangled threads of her dream. 

"Weird..." Knuckles muttered, standing up and trying not to jostle DJ too much. They'd slept spooned, the three of them, curled up like kittens in a basket. Warmth took precedent over appropriateness. It was odd, being squashed up like that, but she was rather beyond caring.

Knuckles found a few sticks and set about trying to coax the coals into flame, all the while thinking at a break-neck pace.

Let's see... I saw Morgan and DJ, and I could hear their thoughts... Morgan was ready to just give up, she had no hope left... then I saw Never-Land vanish into nothing...

But what does it mean? Or am I just being ridiculous?

After a moment she decided that yes, she was being silly, and that other things were more important than her garbled dreams. Like breakfast.

Not that she was going to find any on a rock in the middle of the ocean, especially in thirty degree weather. But she left the fire crackling merrily and went in search of nibbles.

When Morgan awoke, Knuckles was trying rather haphazardly to cook what looked like a scrawny rabbit over the fire. She was mumbling to herself in a verbal stream of consciousness.

"I hope this turns out okay... TK always said I was a terrible cook- wonder where TK is, for that matter... or everyone else... maybe they're all over the place... I could really go for a joke with Mad, or some of Amanda's amazing baked truffles... heck, I'd even be happy if I saw Scrabble, never mind my friends..."

"What're you rambling on about?" asked Morgan, sitting up and scooting closer to the fire. Knuckles jumped, and for half an instant she looked more like a spooked cat, her blonde hair going every-which-way, than a teenage girl. Then she relaxed.

"Everything, anything, and nothing, in that order," said Knuckles primly. "Hungry?"

"Starved," DJ said groggily, arising from slumber with his nose twitching. "That smells wonderful. Where'd you get a rabbit?"

"In the woods. Dead easy to snag if you can aim aright." Knuckles poked the coals, which immediately spat up sparks.

DJ grinned at his sister, eyes dancing. "See, Morgan? I found us an Amazon warrior!"

"Huh?" Knuckles gave the pair a puzzled glance. DJ waved her off. "Nothing. American thing."

"DJ's weird," said Morgan confidentially. "Just so you know." But her hazel eyes flickered with amusement.

"Am not!" DJ retorted, feigning insult, dramatically tossing his head and making his crazily tangled dark hair do even more complicated acrobatics. "You're the oddity here."

Knuckles laughed. "You look just like Mad and me."

"Who's that?"

"My chum," she replied easily. "His real name's Omar, but he's color-blind and can't tell plaid from polka-dot, so we all call him Mad. He's great. Me, him, and Levi- we're like this." She held up her hand, showing the two siblings her crossed fingers. "Great goobers, the lot of us."

"They die?" asked DJ. At that moment the great chasm between his life and Knuckles' was painfully obvious.

Knuckles snorted. "No. Why?"

"You're not with them."

"We got separated when the island vanished," said Knuckles hotly. "I've a mind to find the others and even if we have to steal one of those crazy air-plane things, we're going to get home."

Morgan tilted her head to one side and considered the other girl, some odd tingling of half-forgotten memory coming to life in the back of her mind. "Where might that be?"

Knuckles plopped down in the sand, staring moodily into the flames. "Never-Land- I told you last night. I think. Anyway, it's this big island right on the edge of this reality and the next. I live there, along with the other Lost, and any foundlings Peter picks up-which is pretty much everyone except Peter-and the redskins and the mer-folk. Used to be pirates and Fae, but they vanished about ten years ago."

DJ scoffed. "You're nuts."

"Maybe so," Knuckles snapped. "But I would rather live in a dream-world than this one. Where is everyone? Why are the big cities deserted? I know it shouldn't be like this- I might not have been off the island since eighteen fifty-nine, but I know what your world should be like. What happened?"

Morgan stared blankly at Knuckles. "You really are nuts."

"Just tell me," said Knuckles, anger vanished and replaced by a heavy feeling of depression.

The siblings exchanged uncertain glances. DJ nodded slowly, blue eyes unreadable. Morgan sighed explosively and looked back at the blonde girl.

"The Plague happened, that's what. Just about everyone under fifteen is dead. It only attacks kids. You're dead within two weeks, and there's no cure, no getting rid of it. And it's so contagious it's not even funny."

"How does it kill?" Knuckles asked in a small, childlike voice borne of sudden fright.

"It starts with a cough, stuffy nose, chills- typical cold symptoms," said Morgan harshly, trying to banish the images from her mind and not doing too well. 

"The skin gets dry and cracks terribly, and sometimes they get bad nosebleeds. The internal systems shut down, starting with motor control. Once that starts they're dead within a day." She swallowed hard, remembering despite her best efforts. Remembering seeing Kendall and Janice huddled together, hacking and crying with pain. All her friends, dying so slowly... so slowly. Being horrified at herself- young enough to catch it, should have caught it, but survived to watch almost everyone she loved fall prey to a silent, unseen attacker.

DJ grasped her hand. She squeezed it hard, bringing herself back to the here and now.

"Just younger kids?" Knuckles asked softly. Morgan nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"All of Never-Land is here now," Knuckles muttered, horror growing in her mind. "Half of them haven't aged yet, are still fourteen and under on the outside." She looked up at the unforgiving sky, trying not to panic. "And Griffin... Levi's baby..."

"Who?"

Knuckles looked back at her newfound companions. "Peter and Levi's little boy. He's five."

"Peter and Levi?" DJ asked, looking at her oddly. "How can two guys have a kid?"

"Levi's a she, and her real name is Levity," said Knuckles dismissively. "But that's not the point! Griffin and Scrabble and TK and Slightly... they're all goners." She dropped her head into her hands, trembling with fear for her friends.

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Griffin shivered inside the monstrous leather jacket, trying not to show his discomfort and failing terribly. He was the only one awake, but that was besides the point. He had his pint-sized dignity, after all.

Even huddled between his parents as he was, he was still cold. Terribly so. He breathed on his hands, trying to stay warm. Terrible images of his fingers freezing and falling off filled his five-year-old mind with terror.

He let out a little "eep" at the thought and stuck his hands in his armpits. This movement was entirely too much for his current bed-mates.

Levi felt something pointy jab her in the ribs and she opened one eye, trying to figure out what had happened without actually waking up. It wasn't that she was warm or comfortable, she just figured sleeping was preferable to getting up.

On Griffin's other side, Peter was doing the same thing. Their eyes met and they traded rather exasperated smiles. Griffin's wriggling again they said, without ever uttering a word.

"'Fin, what's the matter with you?" Peter grumbled.

"Cold," Griffin mumbled. "If my fingers get too cold will they fall off? Dean said so!"

Levi groaned and sat up, making sure she sent a baleful glance in Dean's general direction. He was a lump of ragged, dusty blanket that occasionally mumbled something, curled up in a corner of the abandoned store they had taken up residence in.

"No, Griffin, nothing will happen to your fingers," said Levi obligingly. "Keep rubbing them together and you'll be fine."

Griffin nodded vaguely and clambered into Levi's lap. Sighing at the loss of further sleep, Levi held him tightly there. "Wow, you are cold," she said, tapping his nose with one finger. "I guess 'cause you're littler than us and give off more body-heat."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Just science." She ruffled his hair. "Sleep okay?"

Griffin wrinkled his nose. "Da drooled on me!"

Peter's protests were drowned out by Levi's laughter. Over in the corner, Dean gave a snort and glared at them from under the ratty blanket scrounged from an alleyway.

"Quiet!"

"Oh, be quiet yourself, Dean," said Peter, running both hands through his unruly hair. "We need to get up and get moving anyway."

Grumbling, Dean crawled out of his cocoon. While Griffin watched the others jury-rigged the blankets into cloaks with some rope and safety pins. Griffin kept the ancient jacket, but everyone else got to sport the medieval look.

"Better than going without," said Levi diplomatically, wrapping the blanket around herself. "Where do we start looking?"

"Right outside," said Peter instantly, struggling to fix his own winter gear on straight. "There have to be some more- if we four were that close together, then the rest of us can't have been scattered too far out."

"Makes sense," Dean commented. "But then, it might have been coincidence."

Peter raised an eyebrow at his friend. "There are no such things as coincidences, Dean. Either events were arranged by people or by Fate, but they're never let lie like that."

"What's a coincidence?" Griffin asked curiously.

"Something that no one arranged for but happens right when you need it to," Levi replied. "Let's go, then. We need to stay close- don't let go of my hand, Griffin."

The four set out into the snow-dusted streets, clutching their rather smelly, ragged, but surprisingly warm blankets about them. Griffin suffered the most from the cold, but after a while Levi slung him over her hip and he took shelter under her blanket/cloak.

By noon they had found three others. By nightfall the group of four had grown to twelve, ranging from eight-year-old Fisher to Nibs to Amanda, who instantly gravitated to Dean and held his hand in a death-grip. By some miracle they managed to get some sort of cloak or coat for everyone, although it was a close thing.

The city was empty, abandoned but for the Lost. They hadn't seen anyone besides their own people. Yet it was a recent abandonment- there was no dust inside the buildings, no cobwebs. It was as if everyone had vanished, leaving the biggest possible mess in their wake. Levi kept thinking of riots she'd seen on television, all those years ago- the kind of destruction they could cause. Somehow what they were seeing here seemed to be that kind of chaos, the devastation terrified and angry people could cause when they got out of control. When humans gave in to the animal inside, became feral.

The thought made her wonder. What would have caused such an event? Why would people be that upset so as to decimate an entire city in a instinct-driven panic?

It didn't add up. None of it did. It would be quite a while before they learned what, and by then it wouldn't matter anymore.

The enemy was among them...

  
  


* * *

  
  


Knuckles brushed the sand off her hands, staring across the steely waves to the distant mainland. DJ caught her looking and shook his head.

"Nearly killed Morgan and me, getting across that thing. I wouldn't advise trying it again."

Knuckles wasn't listening. All she could think of was finding the others. Finding the rest of the Lost and then finding a way home, out of this mad reality that didn't make sense anymore.

It hadn't made sense when she was an eight-year-old street urchin in penal colony Australia. And it still didn't, not after three hundred years and a whole hemisphere of distance.

"How long did you swim?" Knuckles asked slowly, her thoughts still worlds away.

"Over an hour."

The water was bitingly cold. Knuckles figured if two malnourished, scrawny, physically unimpressive wretches could pull it off and survive, then she-who was at the peak of her teenage vigor-could do it easily.

"I have to find the others," Knuckles said, more to herself than DJ. Morgan was asleep again, and only DJ was there to protest against her stupidity. "Maybe I can help."

"You really are nuts."

"Probably." Without looking back, Knuckles braced herself and went crashing into the water. The sudden jar made her tense, suck in a mixed mouthful of air and ocean. She sputtered, then started swimming with strong, broad freestyle strokes.

DJ watched her, shocked that she would do such a ridiculous thing. Without thinking about it, he roused his sister and went plowing into the ocean after the new kid. Morgan, flabbergasted, had no choice but to follow.

And so they swam back to the mainland, back to the world that hated them. And hoped they wouldn't be shot in the process.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Knuckles dragged herself onto the sand, coughing and panting. Had she known she would get lost and have to swim a lot longer than thought, she'd have waited until morning instead of leaving in the late afternoon. Nevertheless, she had left in the evening and ended up lost and nearly been eaten by jellyfish, but she was alive and on solid ground once more.

DJ helped her to her feet. He was merely damp rather than soaking- he'd arrived nearly half an hour before. Morgan was similarly damp. This was a bit of a blow of Knuckles' ego, but nothing she couldn't survive.

"Get here all right?" DJ asked. "I lost sight of you a few hours back."

Knuckles nodded, trying not to cough. "Yeah. A bit bedraggled, but I'm alive."

"Good. Let's get looking for these friends of yours, then."

Knuckles nodded and pushed DJ away. She started up the beach, ignoring the cold, focusing only on finding her friends—if they were even in the city and not scattered across the globe like so much chaff—and warning them. What good it would do she didn't know, beyond salving her conscience, but she felt it had to be done.

Knuckles took a deep breath and set to her task.

* * *

The sun was just creeping up over the horizon, seizing the opportunity to shine through a rare chink in the heavy cloud cover.

Levi relished that touch of gold, the slight warmth that made her ache for her homeland. For the mountains and forests, the cliffs and oceans, the sky reaching up forever. For a tiny little home tucked into the roots of a giant cypress, the one place in any reality she ever truly felt secure and safe.

No one else was awake. All were huddled together within tattered, dirty blankets, shivering and snoring. Scrabble was murmuring something about flapjacks. They had found a temporary solace in sleep; one Levi hadn't been able to give herself.

Her old fears had resurfaced, fears of Time, fears of death and darkness. Not physical darkness, but oppressive, heartbreaking emotional darkness. The kind that drives men to madness.

She wrapped her own blanket tighter about her shoulders, being mindful of Griffin's head in her lap. He didn't even stir at her movement, still blissfully unaware of the world as only a sleeping child can be.

Levi smiled to herself, absently stroking Griffin's hair. She sometimes wondered if she was completely mad- she didn't feel like she was any older than sixteen, even though by all rights she should be twenty-something. What business did a teenager have with being a mother? It became even weirder when she looked in the mirror. To anyone outside Never-Land, Griffin could have been her brother, but never her son.

Her child. Those words always brought her thoughts back to a small town in Greece, a tiny rough hut where she had scraped out a living for the better part of a year with only her elder brother for company. Where she had died. Where she had last seen her little girl, the little infant with eyes so blue it was almost unnatural. Her Autumn.

Levi sighed and focused back on Griffin. Autumn was gone- gone for millennia, grown up and died without ever knowing her mother. Levi had a family _now_, and she shouldn't dwell on the past, no matter how much it hurt.

Griffin's eyes fluttered open and he sat up, yawning and stretching comically. He rubbed his eyes and looked blearily up at Levi.

"Sleep good?" Levi asked. Griffin nodded absently and stood, doing his typical shaking-out-the-grogginess dance, which involved bouncing from one foot to the other, shaking his arms, and bending at the waist in all directions. Then he pushed his hair off his forehead and looked at her inquiringly. "What's for breakfast?"

"No idea. I don't know if there's anything around here to eat."

Griffin's face fell. "But I'm hungry!" he wailed. "I wanna go home!"

Griffin's pint-sized sob fest awoke the rest of the group, most of whom sent the boy and his mother dirty looks before getting about their morning as best they could. Of course, Griffin neither noticed nor cared- he was too preoccupied with his growling stomach and the fact that he was cold.

"What's the yelling about?" Peter asked sleepily, sitting up and running his hands through his ruffled sandy hair. "It's too early to be caterwauling like that."

"But I'm hungry," Griffin pouted, folding his arms and stamping his foot. Levi sighed and stood up.

"Let's see what we can find, then. It'll be an adventure all on its own."

This placated the formerly irascible boy and they headed off down the street hand in hand. A cluster of other children followed them, all eager to get their hands on whatever Levi might find.

Peter shook his head as he watched them go. "Stay in shouting distance," he hollered after them. Levi waved over her shoulder to show she had heard, and then the motley crew disappeared around the corner.

"This is madness," Amanda said irritably from her now permanent position at Dean's right side. "Have you any idea of how to get home, Peter?"

Peter stood, wrapping the jury-rigged blanket slash poncho around his slender frame. "No, I don't. I have an idea, but we need to find some local kids first."

An expression of confusion flickered across Amanda's sharp face. "Whatever for?"

Peter shrugged. "Not sure. We'll find out when we find someone under fifteen or so."

The rest of the kids exchanged looks of confusion and frustration amongst themselves, but said nothing more. They simply picked up their blankets, wrapped them about themselves, and headed off in a pack after Levi and the younger children.

* * *

Knuckles knew she was being mad.

She didn't care.

With every turn, with every empty street, the desperation grew stronger and stronger inside her until she was almost choking on it. All DJ and Morgan could do was follow after her, shaking their heads at her futile search.

"You'll never find your friends," said Morgan. "If they're still alive, they won't be here anyway."

"You don't know that!" Knuckles snapped at her over her shoulder. She was beginning to get rather hysterical. "You don't know anything!" She turned another corner and DJ ran after her, yelling for her to stop.

Morgan didn't follow. She stood alone in sudden silence, clutching her ragged jacket around her thin frame. The snow had stopped, but it was still cold. So cold her hands were aflame with it.

A sudden clatter made her jump. She whirled about. A young boy was running away down the street. Morgan didn't quite know why she ran after him, but she did. Apparently her quarry was unused to sprinting, but she was very well acquainted with it and easily caught him by his collar and the pair skidded to a stomp in the slushy street.

"Who are you?" Morgan demanded. She shook the boy—who was only about twelve--fiercely.

"Scrabble," he said tremulously. "Don't hurt me!"

The name sounded familiar. "You know a girl named Knuckles?"

The boy eyed her with increased suspicion. "Yeah. Australian, blonde, barking mad. Why?"

"Come on."

She hauled him back down the street, around the corner, and down the road. DJ had caught Knuckles and the pair was sprawled on the sidewalk, arguing between heavy breaths.

"Knuckles!" Morgan bellowed, to get the other girl's attention. "Says he knows you." She shoved Scrabble towards the blonde, who jumped up with an expression of complete elation.

"Scrabble! Are you okay? Have you seen the others? Do you know what happened yet?" She spoke so fast DJ and Morgan couldn't understand, but apparently Scrabble did.

"I'm fine. They're about half a mile away, looking for food. We don't know yet," Scrabble said doggedly. "There's about twenty of us. I don't know where the others are."

"Which twenty?"

"Peter, Levi, Griffin, Amanda, Dean, Jasmine, me, Curtis, Nibs, Slightly, Ike, Laura, Mouse, Fox, Pockets, and a few others I don't know."

"Let's go, then," Knuckles said, her elation replaced by iron determination. "There's some things everyone needs to know. You two come as well."

The four trudged off through the slush.

* * *

"I'm hungry," Griffin moaned. "I'm cold. I'm thirsty. I wanna go _home!_"

Levi clenched her fists. She understood, she really did, but Griffin's wailing combined with her own frustration was grating her nerves. Soon she would be an absolute hag if someone drastic didn't happen.

"Levi!"

Levi jumped, whirled, and her eyes widened. "Knuckles!" She ran down the road towards her friend. Knuckles laughed when Levi nearly knocked her down.

"Where've you been? Who's that? Found a way home? Why have you got ice in your hair?" Levi kept on at about fifty miles a minute. Knuckles giggled and peeled Levi's hands from her arms.

"Calm down."

"Are you all right?"

"For the moment." Suddenly Knuckles' pixy-like features darkened. "I need to talk to Peter."

Peter handed Griffin, who was sniffling still, off to Amanda and stepped out of the cluster of youth. "I'm here," he said, swiftly joining the smaller group. "Who's this, Knuckles?"

"DJ and Morgan," Knuckles said, pointing to each teen in turn. "They saved my bacon. They also know what happened."

Morgan stared with wide eyes at the strangers. In particular the new boy, who was about eighteen and very tall. Poor non-family-male-company-deprived Morgan also found him highly attractive. She flushed darkly when his gaze met hers. Levi sent her a death glare.

"Lovely." Peter smiled darkly. "Why is Central Miami a moonscape, then?" He addressed the question to DJ, who, apart from being older, seemed to have a few more of his wits about him than his sister considering the present company did.

"We don't have a real name for it," DJ said. "We just called it the Plague. Basically almost everyone under fifteen is dead and all the grown-ups panicked. All the big cities are like this; everyone's hiding now. Far as I know Morgan and I are the last. Either the Plague got all the other kids or the hovers got them."

A look of dark understanding settled on Peter's features. His hazel eyes, normally full of laughter, now only reflected the death throes of those children's past innocence. "All?"

"All," DJ said grimly. "Even little kids."

His words sent a jolt through Morgan and she squeezed her eyes shut. Kendell and Janice, her little brother and sister, so pale, their skin paper thin… a dry sob worked its way from her, with a wracking quality that you only hear from someone who has no tears left to cry. DJ automatically wrapped one arm around her rail-thin shoulders.

"What sort of Plague?" asked Levi, suddenly wishing Griffin was with her. She expected DJ to answer, but instead Morgan spoke.

"It starts out like a cold," she said dully, as if it were nothing more exciting than a weather report. "The skin dries out and cracks badly. Then the motor systems shut down, one by one. They're dead within a day when that starts. From start to finish it takes two weeks, and they're extremely contagious even before symptoms start. There's no cure."

A scream tried to work its way out of Levi's throat and a tense, cold feeling settled in her stomach. She sucked in a deep breath and tried to keep from whimpering.

Knuckles bit her lip. She saw the terror reflected in Levi's tortured blue eyes, saw her fear, and knew with a terrible certainty that there was nothing she could do. Nothing, and that more than anything struck her to the core.

"They know the terrain," said Scrabble, until then ignored and unnoticed. "They can help us. We need their help- we won't make it otherwise."

Peter looked at DJ. The two boys exchanged a single glance- one that was unfathomable to the others, but one that seemed to settle an understanding between them.

Peter sighed heavily and surreptitiously grasped Levi's cold hand. "I don't think we'll make it anyway."

* * *

The sun was setting.

Never had that filled Levi with such utter fear, not since her return to Never-Land. It was a deep-seated, animalistic terror that she vaguely thought the ancient people must have felt knowing predators lurked. A sight that would have made them grasp their weapons.

Griffin was curled up in her lap, a ratty blanket wrapped tightly around him. They had finally found some paltry food and he was finally able to rest easy. Levi did not have that luxury.

Peter, sitting beside her, was silent, but she knew he knew that anything he could say would only worsen things. She did not mind his silence, but was intensely grateful for the arm he had wrapped around her. If he hadn't been there with her, she would never have been able to watch the sun vanish.

The others were all curling up in groups, to share body heat and try to stay alive during the long cold night. They hadn't told the others about the Plague yet, which was the only reason that no one else felt the same fear as Levi.

"Do you think we'll be all right?" Levi whispered as the first stars appeared. "Don't lie, Piotr." Her voice dropped further still into a desperate murmur. "Do you think we'll be all right?"

Peter met her eyes. The total defeat there crushed her more than any words ever could have. One glance, and she knew- their chances of living, of getting home, were about as good as their chances of flying to the sun.

He smiled gently, sadly. It was a smile she hadn't seen him wear since the night Jasmine died.

"Maybe."


	6. Chapter 5

Morgan sat by herself. Teenagers surrounded her, but they were asleep, and at any rate Morgan was deeply ensconced in her own thoughts- so deeply she might have been the only living thing on the face of the earth.

Never had she met a group of people so utterly unlike herself. She couldn't understand the dynamics, but they were something between a large family and a military brigade, down to the youngest child. And each had the queerest knowledge shining in their eyes. 

What they knew Morgan wasn't sure, but she wanted to know. She wanted it so badly she could taste it- she wanted that certainty they all seemed to have, that unshakable foundation of _something_ that she couldn't touch. 

And at the same time it was painfully familiar, as if she had known once but forgotten.

Knuckles had spoken of a place called Never-Land. The name meant nothing, but the emotions behind it, the inflection when Knuckles said the words, did. It reminded Morgan of the childhood dreams she had lost so very long ago.

"Up already?"

Morgan looked up. It was the leader of the hodge-podge group; an older boy named Peter. He gave her a gentle smile and sat on a bit of empty blanket beside her.

"I'm used to being up and running by dawn," Morgan said softly. She sighed heavily and looked at him with a penetrating gaze that took Peter aback.

"Where are you from? It seems important to you."

"The other side," said Peter. Morgan's brow knitted. What kind of an answer was that? Peter chewed on his lip and tried to form an explanation.

"There are two worlds- this one, the Mortal world, and the Deathless Lands, where mortals go afterwards. There is a small bubble between the two, a place where time passes but has no real meaning. We call it Never-Land. Levi says it's really the Place of Truth, whatever that means. It was created a very long time ago by very, very powerful magic- so long ago that it has been completely forgotten. From before my time."

Morgan got the impression that this boy—no, man, no boy had that ancient look in their eyes—was much older than he looked. Older than anything else she had ever encountered.

Peter gestured vaguely. "Whatever it was, the magic depends on faith. Specifically, children and youth and their belief in it. That and several other things, which confuse _me_, never mind everyone else. And now, as you said, there is almost no one alive who's that young. And from what I can see, those who are have completely lost their innocence, their belief. All of them. And the instant the last believer lost that, our home vanished into the mists from which it came. 

"We are not part of that magic- most of us are from this realm, or our ancestors were. So we were sent back, but we don't belong here anymore. A great many of us never did." A great weariness settled onto his slender frame. "And I don't know if we can make it back."

There was something important here, but Morgan could no more grasp it than hold moonbeams in her hand.

"I can't decide if you people are crazy as all get out or telling the truth." Morgan stood. "I'll let you know when I decide."

She walked away, and Peter watched her go, the knowledge she so coveted shining in his hazel eyes.

It wasn't until later that Morgan realized that Peter's hand had gone slightly transparent while he was gesturing.

* * *

Griffin was cold.

As this was nothing new, and indeed had been a constant for quite some time now, he paid it no mind. At least his fingers hadn't fallen off. He was still sore at Dean for scaring him like that.

But what he didn't like at all was the stuffy nose.

He rubbed it furiously with the back of one hand and snuffled. He hated it- he had never had a stuffy nose in his life, and now that he did quite despised the sensation.

He tugged on his mother's sleeve, blissfully unaware that he was waking her from sleep only two hours after she had reached it. "Mommy," he said urgently. "I don't feel good." Yes, now that he said it there was a distinctly icky feeling rising in his stomach.

Before Griffin spoke, Levi would have grunted vaguely and tried to go back to sleep. But the instant his words sank into her foggy mind she sat bolt upward, fear curdling in her stomach.

"How do you not feel good?" she demanded, pressing one hand against the boy's forehead. No, he didn't have a fever, but that didn't mean anything.

"My nose is stuffy and my tummy feels funny," said Griffin miserably. "My head hurts."

Levi had the distinct feeling that this was very bad indeed.

"It's ok." She wrapped the boy in her blanket. "We'll get home soon and then you'll be all better. I promise."

This is one thing that parents throughout the ages have in common- when they and their children are in terrible circumstances; they will still lie through their teeth—usually as loudly as possible—about what will happen. This was no different.

Griffin curled up in his mother's lap, sniffling. Levi wrapped her arms around him possessively and rocked him gently, thinking of everything but what Morgan and DJ had said the day before. That way lay madness.

No one really noticed the exchange. At least, no one but DJ. A scowl settled onto his face. He wasn't stupid- he might not have gotten past the tenth grade, but that wasn't his fault. DJ was knowledgeable beyond his years and he knew that Griffin had caught the Plague with an intense certainty. He also knew that he had to get Griffin away from the others.

This was not a diabolical plot, and he was not trying to hurt anyone. DJ was, in his own way, trying to save the rest of them. He knew it was probably useless, but he felt he had to at least make the attempt.

He stood and strode over to where the pair sat, curled up in their own little world. Levi started when she saw his shadow and looked up at him, fear snapping through her eyes when she recognized him.

"He can't stay," said DJ, his scowl fading to be replaced with pity and rock-hard determination- the same determination that had kept him and his sister alive on the streets for three years. "He just can't."

Levi's eyes flashed, the fear vanishing to be replaced with a deep anger bordering on rage- it was something that even Peter wouldn't go near. DJ was stupid enough to flounder onwards.

"You know just-"

"Shut. Up," Levi snarled. "I am NOT going to just abandon my son."

"He'll infect the others," DJ retorted, his anger rising to, if not match Levi's, then at least snap at its metaphorical heels. "You're being stupid."

Griffin's eyes darted from his mother to the stranger. He was scared now- he didn't know what was going on, but he knew it was bad. 

Levi gingerly set Griffin on the ground and stood, drawing herself up to her full height and standing as if she had a ramrod for a spine. "Am I," she growled. It was not a question.

DJ finally realized that this was a Very Stupid Idea Indeed. The tension in the air couldn't have been cut with a razor, it was so thick. But he refused to back down. He was bigger than she was, if worst came to worst.

"What's going on?"

Levi and DJ's heads snapped towards the speaker, Peter, who was picking his way through drowsy forms lying in clumps on the damp asphalt. His gaze flickered between DJ, Levi, and Griffin, confusion reflected in his eyes.

Levi didn't speak. She didn't have to. Griffin chose that moment to sneeze loudly and start sniffling again. Instantly Peter knew _exactly_ which critter had crawled up DJ's bum and died. His eyes flared in the early morning light.

"I'm not going to ask what you said," Peter said softly. Somehow that made him seem even more dangerous, like a giant cat slinking silently up to its prey. "But I will tell you that if you _ever_ try it again you will be able to use your guts for garters. Have I made myself sufficiently clear?"

DJ nodded, swallowed hard, then turned and walked away.

As soon as DJ was out of earshot Levi slumped like a puppet whose strings had been cut. She sat heavily and buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. Peter sat beside her and gingerly touched her shoulder. "Lyris?"

"Oh, what if he's right?" Levi wailed, flinging herself at Peter and sobbing into his shoulder. Expecting it, Peter wasn't knocked back, but it was a close thing. 

"What happens if we never get home? What if we're trapped here?" Levi said between choking sobs. "What if-"

"Quiet," said Peter, not unkindly. "Don't think about it."

Levi did nothing of the sort, but after a few minutes she managed to stop crying and pull Griffin into a tight hug. Griffin normally would have objected, but he was feeling queasy and frightened and so he clutched his mother just as tightly as she clutched him. Peter, in turn, wrapped his arms around the both of them in a rather awkward and uncomfortable but sincere embrace.

Peter was just as scared and just as upset as the rest of his small family. But he didn't have the luxury of showing it- someone had to hold everyone else up, and besides he had this small group of the Lost's remnants depending on him for leadership. Leaders are never allowed to fall. To do so would to prove to the followers that the leader wasn't all he was cracked up to be. Leaders had to be above mere mortals, even if they weren't.

And besides, Peter had other things on his mind. He had starting getting strange numb feelings in his hands and feet, which would pass moments later. He was reasonably sure it wasn't the weather- frostbite didn't make your hands look slightly transparent. He felt like he was starting to Fade, which made no sense.

Except…

Well, Peter was the anchor, wasn't he? Just because Never-Land had gone didn't mean he wasn't the anchor anymore. And maybe, if things weren't fixed soon, he really _would_ Fade…

All in all, it was not a happy trio clustered together on the pavement.

* * *

Knuckles felt lost.

This would have seemed obvious- she was in a world completely alien to her. But it was a deeper, more hopeless and helpless sort of feeling- the emotion one might identify as very depressed mingled with a lack of security, like a child without its mother. 

She wandered down the empty streets, rummaging through any likely looking piles for something edible. Once she tried to fly and had to force back an angry scream when she remembered that they couldn't anymore.

Never had she realized just how much for granted she had taken her life in Never-Land. At first, when Peter had stolen her out from under the noses of a street gang and sent her on a journey into the sky, every instant was a precious gem. She had never lived with such furious determination than she had those first few months.

And then she became comfortable. She didn't bother pilfering things, because she didn't have to. She didn't pick locks, because she didn't have to. She didn't have to do anything dangerous to ensure her own survival. And so she had become soft, accustomed to living in relative comfort.

And now here she was, right back where she had started. A great deal older and not at all wiser. Her heart ached in her chest with a deep longing to change things, but she knew it would never happen.

"Miss it?"

Knuckles looked up. She could hardly stand the look of pity in DJ's eyes- it burnt more than her internal ache ever would. She nodded tersely.

DJ ambled towards her, hands in his pockets. "You're a close-knit bunch," he said softly. "I'd love to have a camaraderie like that."

"We've faced down evil together. You can't get much closer than that," Knuckles said, thinking back to the day that they had wiped the pirates off the face of Never-Land. "We trust each other completely."

"I feel like an intruder, jumping into all this," said DJ, waving his arms vaguely. "But I can't help feeling…"

"What?"

"It's nothing."

Now Knuckles' depression vanished, replaced by curiosity that was oddly intense in nature. "No, tell me," she said, watching his eyes for any flicker of emotion.

"Like I was part of it once," he said lamely. "As though I used to know what you all know."

"That's not surprising. Every child knows about our world, but forget…" This struck Knuckles deeply. It took her a moment to realize why. Then she let out a gasp and bolted down the street, ignoring DJ's cry of bewilderment.

* * *

"Peter!"

Peter's head snapped up, his body following a moment later as he stood with every nerve alight, ready to fight against danger or whisk his followers and family to relative safety.

Knuckles ran toward him, tripping over still sleeping forms and knocking into those standing. She reached him a moment later, disheveled and panting from her twenty-block sprint. 

"I know why we're here," she gasped, clutching her ribs as she fought for breath. "What happened. No one believes anymore. All the children are gone, no one's left to believe."

"What?"

"The Plague! It killed everyone who believed in Never-Land, and made sure that any children in the future will never know." Knuckles collapsed in a boneless heap onto the chilly asphalt. "No more believers." She slumped backwards, having delivered her message, and focused her entire existence towards catching her breath. Funny, last she was in the Other World such a run would have left her only slightly winded, and now she felt as though her insides had imploded.

Levi stared at Knuckles, her mouth hanging open slightly. Just like it had for the blonde, all the pieces clicked into place in Levi's mind. She shuddered subconsciously and tightened her grip on Griffin, who was shivering pitiably.

Peter's brows contracted. It made sense. Perfect, terrifying sense. He swallowed hard, forcing down the bile in the back of his throat. If that was true, they were worse than dead here.

Unless…

DJ came jogging towards them. Unlike Knuckles, he was as fresh as if he had merely strolled down the street rather than chased down Knuckles, who despite her winded state was still fast as a gazelle when the mood struck her. DJ, by comparison, was slower but more intimately acquainted with the act of running pell-mell and his spare, wiry frame was very used to it.

"What's going on?" he asked, ignoring the chilly glares Peter and Levi sent his way. "Knuckles just ran off without explanation."

Peter stared at him a moment longer, then overcame his dislike for the teenager. "She figured out why we're here. Where is your sister?"

DJ was taken aback by the question. It seemed utterly out of context. Levi, however, looked up at Peter with a combination of bewilderment and annoyance flickering across her face in turns.

"I don't know. Somewhere. You need to talk to her?"

"Quite," Peter said tightly. "Find her, will you?"

DJ looked as if he would protest, but the stony look on Peter's face—one that chilled DJ to the very marrow—brooked no argument. He wandered away in search of Morgan.

Levi stood, shifting Griffin so that he was slung over one hip. "You're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?"

Peter met her gaze, eyes flickering with a plethora of thoughts and feelings only Levi had ever been able to interpret. "I think I am."

"She won't, Peter. She just _won't. _Someone doesn't forget at once, and a girl like her doesn't shed her shell that fast. You're snatching at dreams, Piotr." 

"That's all we've ever had, dreams. All Never-Land ever was." A deep sadness settled into his face. The sight of Peter so hopeless, along with Griffin's sudden sickness, threatened to push Levi over the edge. It was becoming far too much to handle. He had always been so happy and cheerful, her rock when things went badly. And now even he was starting to crumble.

"I have to try, Levi. I'm starting to follow it."

Instantly Levi's train of thought derailed. "Follow what?" she demanded, half-afraid of the answer.

"Never-Land."

"What do you mean?"

Peter shook his head, dropping his gaze to the street. "I'm Fading," he whispered. "In bits and pieces. Not all at once, but much faster than I should."

"You're too young," Levi replied, her words tinged with desperation. "That's impossible."

Peter laughed mirthlessly, looking back up at her. "Isn't it? I've seen too many things to disbelieve what I see and feel. Too many times that's been all I had to go on. I'm the anchor, Lyris, use your head. If Never-Land fails, I'm bound to follow it. I always have been."

"You haven't always been. You haven't been alive forever."

Peter's eyes went misty, distant. "It feels like I have."

Levi suddenly felt angry for no good reason. She set Griffin on the ground to more adequately face down Peter. The boy immediately sought shelter in Knuckles' lap.

"You listen to me, Piotr. You are _not _giving up on me, on any us of us! I don't care how long we're stuck here, even if it's forever, but no one is giving up. Least of all you." Her anger cracked slightly. "If you give up, we'll all lose hope, and that's all we have left."

"Sounds familiar."

Levi and Peter turned, startled, to see Morgan's diminutive form, nearly shadowed by her much taller brother. Her eyes, sharp as glass shards, flitted between the pair of them, silently entreating them for an explanation.

"Thank you, DJ. I need to speak with Morgan in private."

DJ nodded uncertainly and walked away, pausing to look over his shoulder every few moments. He soon disappeared. Knuckles stood and jogged after him, leaving Griffin. Levi automatically picked him up again. Griffin, unsettled by everything swirling around him, buried his face in Levi's neck.

"What is it?" Morgan asked, shifting her weight nervously from one foot to the other. "You look like your dog died."

Peter ignored her last statement. "I need your help."

"That's a surprise."

"I've no time for sarcasm, girl," he said mildly. Levi backed off slightly and sat on a scrap of dirty cloth, clutching Griffin close.

"Really? I have loads," Morgan replied, mimicking his tone. "Please, do tell. I'll have to check my schedule, you understand." 

"Did you ever believe in fairy tales?"

Morgan's brow contracted in confusion. "Yeah, every little kid did."

"How long?"

Morgan shrugged carelessly. "I dunno."

"What was your dream, as a child?"

"Dream? What sort?"

"A child's dream."

Morgan eyed Peter speculatively, then sighed. "I wanted to catch a cloud in a jar, and live in a treehouse with a pet dragon."

"Did you dream about it?"

"Dream as in asleep or dream as in daydream?"

"Asleep." Peter was completely serious. This struck Morgan as rather odd, but did not comment on it.

"Both."

"Did you believe it would happen?"

"I wished."

"Peter, you cannot resurrect forgotten innocence with one terse conversation," said Levi suddenly, startling those who had nearly forgotten her presence as she watched the strange interchange. "You are regressing."

Peter turned and cast Levi a questioning look, beneath which Piotr's amusement lingered like a half-forgotten ghost. "Pray tell how?"

"You're expecting other people to read your mind again."

Peter let out a rather mirthless laugh and looked back at Morgan. He tilted his head slightly like a tailor visually taking someone's measure, which was not far from the truth. Then he nodded and gestured for Morgan to take a seat on the chilly pavement. There was no one else about that they could see—no one in the group, except perhaps Griffin, doubted in the least that there were unseen hordes of curious onlookers, eavesdropping on the strange proceedings—and so Peter felt moderately secure in unfolding the entire tale to Morgan.

"Let me tell it," said Levi. "You are a horrendous story-teller, Piotr."

Peter nodded, agreeing easily. "All right. Listen carefully, Morgan." He smiled slightly sardonically and sat, settling back on his haunches to listen to a story he knew so well he could recite it in his sleep.

Levi spent a few moments drawing her thoughts together, ironing things out in her mind. She rocked back forth, eyes distant, as she thought. Morgan was just getting restless when Levi looked up and began to speak.

"Long ago, before Time had begun to age itself, the realms were formed. The mortal lands, where everything living enjoyed their full expanse of time and then fell dark, as all living things do. And beside it was the world of death where spirits ruled.

"But Time sought to create a place where it need not march ever onward, where it could rest. And so in between the two, a small bubble came into being. It took the form of an island, surrounded by indigo waters. And because Time is inexorably tied up with life, life too was in that place. But unlike in the mortal world, it would grow to maturity, and simply be, until it was wearied and passed on easily and painlessly, as Time thought it should. Plants and animals, birds and insects. And people as well- mer-folk, to rule the waters, aborigines, to rule the land…" here Levi drifted off, as if lost in her own memory, then shook her head and smiled. She quickly remembered what Janus had said and resumed, "and flighty folks to rule the skies. The name they gave themselves is lost in antiquity. For they alone could, if so inclined, leave their world and roam the mortal world. At first they found and brought people to live among them, but these journeys slowly faded into distant memory as humanity in mortality became more hostile, and the journey more hazardous.

"And so in the realm where Time was but was not, they all prospered."

"This is a wonderful bedtime story, but what is the point?" Morgan asked suddenly. She quailed slightly at the sudden glares both Peter and Levi sent her way.

"This is our most precious tale. Be respectful," Peter said roughly. Levi nodded sharply and resumed speaking, although with a more snappish tone.

"And then one night, after many rebuffs, the Fae invaded. They had not been invited, for they commanded magic and a personality most treacherous. The combination destroyed the delicate balance that had existed for untold millennia, and though the Fae had escaped human persecution, they had destroyed an entire civilization. True time overwhelmed the island, and those that could fled into the mortal world. Those of flight were affected the worst, for they were intricately bound up with the magic. For within their number was the blood that bound the island to the heavens, and the power that kept the realm living. All of their number, down to the smallest child and oldest elder, made the dangerous journey.

"Except one. He knew not why, for such knowledge had been lost long before, but he felt bound to the land, despite its fall from glory. He stayed, even when all he loved flew in fear for their lives." Levi glanced uncertainly at Peter, whose stoic expression revealed no emotions as if a mask had dropped over his features. He never spoke of that time, between her leaving and her return, but knew it could not have been pleasant.

"The Fae rejoiced in their triumph, until the found the one remaining. Recognizing his binding power, rather than removing him they destroyed his memories and used the greatest magic they had to reverse the damage time had wrought, making him a boy rather than the man he ought to be. He forgot his life from before, and spent many happy years in ignorance.

"Then he began making forays into the mortal world, for what he knew not. He rescued countless youths and brought them to the island, unknowingly doing what his ancestors had countless years before. And all the time he was searching… for what he knew not.

"One of these that he rescued was a young girl. They saw within each other something peculiar, as if they had met in a half-forgotten dream. And eventually they recognized what had been. Once upon a time, long before, she had been his…" Levi hesitated, searching for the right word, "wife, before the escape into the heavens. She was a reincarnation, but still the same person. He was the same as ever, unchanged but for his memory.

"And then something happened that the Fae could not tolerate- they remembered, both of them, what had been before true Time had fled their realm and the island had frozen in time from the Fae's clumsy attempts at repair. The Fae tried to dispose of the girl, and instead the boy-that-was-not was nearly killed.

"The power that controlled and created the island was bound up in the people of flight, and she was the bearer. She bent Time, twisted it so that what had been the boy's wound became hers, for if he had died the island would have fallen from the sky, as a boat without an anchor will drift and be smashed upon the rocks. She lived, miraculously. And Time unknotted; the island became as it had been before. The Fae vanished, to whence no one knew."

This was usually where the story—Levi having told an extremely condensed and abridged version of their history—ended, but Levi took a deep breath to continue. But Peter cut her off and told it, for there were pieces he had not told her that needed to be told. Morgan and Levi both looked slightly confused, but Peter forged onward regardless.

"They lived in peace for several years, but then the boy, the anchor, began sensing strange things. Feeling things that meant the island was not well, that it was ailing invisibly. He knew not why, nor the cure.

"Then one morning it truly did fall from the sky, banishing its mortal-born inhabitants to the mortal realms. They banded together, confused, and tried to find the reason. They found out why, but not how to return."

Morgan, who had been getting into the story despite her best efforts, looked indignant when neither Levi nor Peter continued speaking. "Then what?"

"We don't know yet," Levi said simply. "I'm afraid you are the only one who can finish the story. Whether it is good or ill is all up to you. The ball, as they say, is in your court."

"You don't really believe that's all true."

Stony stares were Morgan's only answer.

Morgan stood, shaking her head. "I know why you all know each other. You were cellmates in a _looney bin,_ that's why!" She turned and bolted down the grimy street.

Peter turned and looked at Levi, who was staring morosely at the spot Morgan had just vacated. "She'll come around."

"I hope so."

Griffin sniffled and buried his face deeper into his mother's ribs.

* * *

After that, all they could do was wait.

Morgan stewed in silence. DJ did the same, although giving Levi and Peter a wide berth. Why they stayed with the group only Levi and Peter could guess at.

The city fluctuated between icy chill and tepid temperatures; snowfall alternating with ash as the distant volcanoes continued their silent belching to the sky. They found no more stragglers. Why became apparent two days after the ill-fated telling of the Lost's history.

The group was shuffling down the street towards the beach, hopeful of the distant prospect of a fish dinner. Morgan suddenly stopped short and grabbed DJ's hand. They both went stiff and still, faces paling. Those directly around the siblings stopped and felt a thrill of dread without knowing why.

"Hear that?" Morgan whispered. DJ nodded. The others exchanged bewildered glances. 

"Hovers," Morgan hissed. "Ten or more. Street-side."

"Hovers?" asked a confused boy of ten or so.

"_Hide,_ that's what it means!" DJ cried, unfreezing and moving into action with startling swiftness. "This way!" He seized his sister by the arm and ran.

The humming noise got louder. The twenty-something group of youth followed without question.

They bolted towards the beach, the only place where a group that large stood any reasonable chance of surviving against the hovers. That was before, anyway, DJ and Morgan skidded to a stop with dread in their eyes and hover-hums in their ears.

"They've cut off the beach!" Morgan yelped. "Ooh, we're gonna die for sure this time!"

"Shut up! Run!" DJ yelled, bolting for the nearest building. He had neatly usurped Peter's authority, but no one cared. He and Morgan knew the dangers of this strange world, and if that meant following them instead of their own leader then so be it.

Levi could hear her heart beating against her ribs. She swallowed her panic, clutched Griffin to her, and ran.

The hums got louder.

Louder.

__

Louder.

Louder!

And then a floating motorcycle came roaring around the corner like a horsemen of the apocalypse, its pilot swathed it protective gear, looking more alien than human. The kids screamed, scattering like a flock of brainless pigeons.

The rider lifted a hulking rifle, and fired one shot.

Just one.

Three teenagers toppled. The green-blue flash had blinded Levi; she turned her head and shielded Griffin's eyes. A sharp stench of burnt meat reached her nostrils. Griffin started crying.

The teens—Curtis, Amanda, Laura—were dead. Completely and utterly. Levi's breath hitched and she paused in her panicked flight.

"Amanda!" Dean took a flying leap at the hover, which had not slowed at all. The rider swung the rifle towards Dean, who never saw it coming.

Never saw anything, after that.

Levi unfroze. She wanted to stop it, wanted to call up her powers and **_DESTROY_** the threat to her friends, her family. Could only run, sobbing and hoping that death-ray found no more victims.

Levi scrambled beneath a half-collapsed building, still holding Griffin tightly. She wedged the pair of them in a dark crevice and shushed Griffin. He quieted so quickly Levi felt a jolt of fear.

She could hear screams. Levi wanted to join them, wanted to give voice to the animalistic terror rising in her chest. But she could only sit and wait in utter stillness, wait for silence and the absence of that dreadful hum. 

Levi sat in the darkness and rocked Griffin back and forth.

Back and forth....

* * *

Knuckles pressed herself into the crevice, barely aware of the person beside her. All she knew was her own terror and that she _must not scream._ Once she started she would never be able to stop.

"Shh," someone murmured. Knuckles jumped- they were squashed so tightly together she could feel his breath against her ear. A moment later she realized it was DJ. "They're lazy, they'll leave."

"Sure?"

"I'm still alive, aren't I?"

Knuckles didn't answer. She stood there in the half-light, straining her ears for anything that indicated the hovers was gone.

"They can't turn it off, they'll need a pad to start it again," DJ murmured. "Listen. He's leaving."

Knuckles had no clue what he was talking about. She mentally took her hat off (not that she had one) to his panic-sharpened senses. 

There was another tense minute, in which Knuckles became uncomfortably aware that she could feel every inch of DJ's body where he was pressed against her back, and the large, callused hand on her shoulder.

So fast it made her gasp, DJ slipped away towards the sunlight. Knuckles trailed after him, dread curdling in her gut as she thought of what awaited her outside.

Seven bodies lay in the street. One's face and upper body were so burnt Knuckles couldn't tell who it was. She took quick mental stock of the identifiable ones, as unpleasant as it was.

Dean, Amanda, Laura, Ike, Curtis, and Slightly lay sprawled across the street. Only the first three casualties looked peaceful. Dean's entire body reflected his violent death, from his expression of utter rage to the eleven-inch hole in his gut. Ike and Slightly had fallen just outside the safety of the buildings, falling in a twisted tangle side by side. Slightly's hand was still extended outward, as if reaching for the uncertain safety the office building afforded. 

Morgan emerged, followed by a handful of eight- and ten-year-olds. "You all right, DJ?" she asked, joining her brother. The left sleeve of her jacket had been seared away, exposing a red-black burn just above her elbow.

"Sideswiped?" DJ asked, examining his sister's wound without touching it. Morgan nodded, careful not to move the burnt arm. "Nearly got me. I slipped by, but those two weren't so lucky." She nodded towards Ike and Slightly's still forms.

Levi came crawling from beneath a half-collapsed building across the street. She still clutched Griffin. Both seemed unhurt, albeit extremely traumatized. When she saw the carnage, Levi placed a hand over her son's eyes. He didn't need to see it.

"Anyone else?" Levi asked shakily as she strode towards them. Griffin sniffled and buried his face in her shoulder. She didn't protest and held him tightly as she could.

"Somewhere," DJ said. "More dead, I don't know."

One of the smaller children, an eight-year-old girl named Erin, whimpered softly and latched onto Morgan's leg. Morgan's face twisted in annoyance and she almost pushed the girl away, but then her face softened and she patted Fox's shoulder awkwardly, completely unfamiliar with such outpourings of emotion from a small child.

Over the next few minutes those still alive filtered back out into the street in tight packs of two or three, still terrified. Only one wasn't.

Peter came striding out into the silent, looking around in panic. When he saw Levi and Griffin, one could almost feel the relief pouring off him as he rushed across the pavement and swept them into a tight hug.

"Hi," Levi said when Peter had released her, a lopsided smile on her face. "You okay?"

"Yeah. You two?"

Griffin nodded, sniffing slightly. Peter relieved Levi of the five-year-old, who wrapped his arms around his father's neck almost tight enough to choke him. The child was trembling all over.

"Hey, it's okay," Peter said, rubbing Griffin's back. "It's okay."

"Do you know who it is?" Levi asked quietly, jerking her head towards the faceless corpse lying in the street as if it were so much rubbish. She tried not to look at it- the sight made Levi sick to her stomach.

Peter shook his head. "We'll have to do a head count. No knowing for sure until then."

It took the better part of fifteen minutes to determine who the faceless fallen was- Randy, a boy of about eleven.

It was a somber group that walked out onto the beach that night, their numbers depleted and their shaky confidence shattered almost beyond recognition. Despite DJ and Morgan's assurances that they would be safe from hovers on the wide expanse of sand, no one slept well that night.

Peter doubted any of them ever would again.

* * *

Griffin hurt.

He had been hurt before, when he skinned his knee on the rocks at the beach. But not like this- he felt like fire ants were biting him all over. The darkness and the silence around him only made him feel worse.

"Mommy, I don't feel good," he whimpered, pressing tight against Levi's side. She had been half-asleep, but instantly awoke fully.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" she asked, trying to see Griffin's face by the vague, watery light of the moon. 

"I hurt all over," he said, trying not to cry. "It hurts, make it stop."

"Let me see," Levi said, tilting Griffin's head back to try and see him better. She stifled a gasp- he was deathly pale, a thin trickle of blood coming from his left nostril. "I'm so sorry Griffin, I can't," she murmured, voice breaking as the force of her own words hit her. "I can't."

Griffin curled up in Levi's lap, trying his best to be brave and not cry, but not doing very well. Levi wanted to cry herself. She wrapped her arms around his spare form and rocked him gently, singing a half-forgotten song under her breath.

"To touch the stars, to truly fly, is something for birds and not I…" Never before had that song been so painful. It was so true now, when even the slightest flight was beyond them. It was like losing a limb. 

"But I can dream, and try to soar…" She couldn't sing the rest of it. It hurt far too much. Why she had even started she didn't know.

"Here I'm tied down to the earth, for I have duties I cannot shirk, but someday I'll Fade and then I'll fly, to join the stars up in the sky."

"Peter," Levi said softly, acknowledging his presence. Griffin had fallen asleep already, despite his discomfort. She felt better talking with Peter, without Griffin hearing.

"You all right?" Peter asked softly, brushing a lock of stray hair from Levi's face. "You never liked that song."

"I still don't," Levi said, a lump forming in her throat. "Especially now."

Peter nodded, his expression inscrutable in the heavy darkness. "I know." He pulled her close, Levi sighing forlornly as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I've already lost one," she whispered brokenly, tears forming in her eyes despite her best efforts. "I can't… if we can't save him…"

"Shh. I know. We'll get home, promise."

They were silent for a long moment, three souls trapped in a maelstrom that had no escape. Levi unconsciously stroked Griffin's hair as he slept, wishing she could make him better and knowing she couldn't.

"Do you ever think," she said softly, breaking the silence, "about that night at the bridge?"

Peter sighed softly. "Sometimes."

"It was like you were meant to be there…"

"I was."

And then an understanding settled between them- no matter how wonderful or awful the past years had been, no mater what happened now, it was meant to be. Even if they never got home and they all died here, that was meant to be too. And if so, at least they'd had a long time to make good memories.

They'd be all right.

* * *

That night, Levi dreamt.

She was back in the little stone cottage in Greece. The same thatched roof and dirt floor. She could hear the stream outside and early-morning birds singing. She stood in the main room, feeling the dusty floor under her feet.

She heard giggling coming from the other room. A little girl came running in, laughing; her brilliant blue eyes alight with glee. A tall man came chasing her, laughing as well, his graying hair held back with a bandanna.

Levi's heart constricted. It was Phineas, looking so much older than he had that day so long ago, when she had died. And the girl… it had to be Autumn, at least seven years old.

Phineas caught her, swinging Autumn high into the air, their laughter mingling. Levi couldn't help but laugh herself.

"Happy birthday, Autumn!" Phineas said, setting Autumn back on her feet. "So, what do you want to do today?"

"Anything?" the girl asked, her face practically glowing as she bounced up and down excitedly.

Phineas laughed. "You're eight today. We can do whatever you want."

"Can we go see Mommy?"

Phineas nodded. "If you like. Right after breakfast."

The scene blurred. A moment later Levi found herself standing under a tree by the stream. Her name, Lyris, was carved on the trunk. Phineas and Autumn appeared over the hill, Autumn clutching a handful of wildflowers. 

Levi felt extremely creeped out. She was quite literally standing on her own grave. Autumn ran towards the spot, her rough dress flapping. The girl skidded to a stop.

"I win!" she yelled, dancing on the spot. The girl calmed and laid the flowers on the ground. "Phineas, can you go wait?" she asked. Phineas nodded and retreated.

The little girl sat down on the thick grass and looked at the carved trunk with a strangely serious expression for someone so young.

"It's my birthday, Mommy. I want you to be with me, but you can't, so I'll leave you a present." She picked at the flowers. "Are you happy? I want you to be happy, like me and Phineas."

Levi wanted to cry.

The girl blurred, before Levi's eyes becoming a teenaged girl. Now Levi could see herself in the young woman before her- they could have been sisters. The same eyes and hair, although Autumn had Peter's tall lanky build and his nose. 

"I'm fourteen today," Autumn said softly. "Yesterday Phineas wedded Ophelia. She's lovely, but she's not you." The girl tilted her head to one side. "He never told me about my father. I wish you could."

Levi watched as Autumn went from a teenager to an adult, then a slightly older woman with a small child in her lap, and eventually an old, old woman.

She was no longer young, her hair white and her hands wrinkled, but her eyes were still bright. The old woman that was Autumn sat gingerly on the grass, considering the carving that was now much farther up the tree.

"I was angry for a long time," she said, her voice quavering with age. "Because you died. But I've realized that you died to give me life. And before I pass on, I wanted to tell you I've lived a good life. I have children and grandchildren and a husband and not a day goes buy that I don't feel grateful for your gift.

"I've lived well. Just so you could know."

Levi awoke with tears on her face.

* * *

Knuckles blinked as the sunlight pierced her slumber, making her eyes water. She sat up, grimacing, and tried to brush the sand off her face.

Then she gasped.

There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, for as far as she could see. The volcanoes were silent, no ash fettering the sunlight. The sun was just creeping over the eastern horizon, sending fingers of yellow and pink and blue across the world.

For the first time since Knuckles had found herself in this strange world, she smiled.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

They were like ghosts.

The thought made Morgan shudder. There were far too many ghosts in the world already, ghosts of innocents who should have never died. But these living shadows were far worse.

The hopelessness around her was crushing Morgan's chest in, as if it were a physical pressure against her ribs. She had become accustomed to the almost buoyant feel of her new companions, and to have that shattered so quickly and decisively left her feeling broken.

"Peter?"

Peter turned, eyebrows raised in question. There was nothing in his expression save open curiosity and a vague hope that he could answer. Morgan felt like she was about to kick a puppy, which made no sense.

"Was all that story crap for real?"

Peter looked a bit taken aback. He shifted the sleeping boy in his arms as he pondered his reply. "As real as legend gets, Morgan. Even history becomes clouded when retold over and over."

"So you meant it?"

"Yes, we meant it. Why?"

Morgan shook her head, uncertain why she had even brought it up. "No reason. I just…"

"Need something to think about?" Peter asked, tilting his head to one side. 

"Yeah," Morgan replied, relieved that he had said it and she hadn't had to. "Something like that. Everyone's so depressed and…"

"We've never encountered anything like that before," Peter said by way of explanation. "We're no strangers to messy death, but execution is a completely different story. Dying in battle is one thing… being mown down isn't a good way to go."

"Better than starving to death," Morgan said, with the irrefutable street-logic that made no sense to Peter put perfect sense to just about everyone else with half a brain cell.

"I'd prefer life, no matter how miserable," Peter said firmly. "I have it on good authority that being dead isn't all that great."

Morgan cast him a questioning look, glancing at the teenaged girl a few yards ahead. "Where you and Levi the kids in that story?"

"You're quick," Peter said noncommittally.

"So I guess she would know, huh."

Peter didn't answer. Apparently it wasn't his favorite topic in the world. Morgan didn't blame him. Although the fact that he was (insofar as his people's laws went) married was a bit depressing.

"Yes, Levi and I were in the story. We didn't tell you even a quarter of it, however, that would have taken until the end of forever."

"Why?"

Peter smiled slightly. "Stories never end, Morgan. You just don't find out about the rest of it."

That certainly gave Morgan something to think about for the rest of the day.

* * *

Knuckles stared at the heaving waves, wondering if she could create a makeshift trident out of driftwood and spear a fish.

"What're you thinking about?"

"Fish," Knuckles replied instantly, not even looking to see whom it was. She knew without thinking that it was DJ. "Think I could catch some?"

"Even if you could, there's no way to cook it. You'd get food poisoning if you ate raw fish from around here. Trust me, I've been there."

"Nice."

"You have no idea," DJ said wryly, stepping closer and standing beside her. "I think it was the fourth worst time of my life."

"What were the other three?"

There was a long silence. Knuckles bit her lip. "I shouldn't have asked," she said contritely. "It's none of my business."

"No, it's okay," DJ replied. He took a deep breath. "The worst day of my life… was when Janice and Kendell died."

"Who?"

"My brother and sister. The Plague got them, within hours of each other."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," said DJ dismissively, waving his hand. "It was a long time ago."

"How long?"

"Three and a half years."

"That's not long," Knuckles said softly. "My friend Randy died ten years ago and I still expect to see him when I wake up, telling me what a lie-abed I am."

"You've had that luxury," DJ said harshly without really meaning to. "I haven't."

"Let's talk about something else," Knuckles said softly. "It's too depressing."

There was a long silence, filled only with the sound of the surf. Finally DJ let out a low sigh.

"You're a strange girl."

"How so?"

"One minute you're Lady Amazon, next you're this… vulnerable little girl, almost. It's strange," DJ said, almost apologetically. "Usually girls are totally butch or really, really emotional, or just, you know, neutral. That I've met, anyway. You're a piece of work."

"Glad you approve," Knuckles said dryly. "I used to be really tough. Then I got all soft in Never-Land. Really soft."

"Nothing wrong with that," DJ said softly, turning so he could look at her. "Just shows you have heart."

"Mmm."

"What's your home like?" DJ asked, more from a desire to keep Knuckles talking than actual curiosity. "Where you're from."

Knuckles sighed heavily. "Very lush. It's always summer. There are trees and mountains, birds everywhere. It's just really wholesome, the kind of place where just breathing the air makes you feel better. More free, somehow."

Knuckles closed her eyes, thinking back on the day Peter brought her to what she now thought of as her home. "When you first get there, the first thing that hits you is the size. It's huge. Then you hear all the noise, all the animals and the wind in the trees and the people and the streams. After that, all you feel is this amazing sense of freedom. You can go anywhere, do anything, _be_ anything. Of course, after a while you get used to it, but every now and then you just stop for a minute and soak it all in."

"Sounds wonderful," DJ said softly. She had very pretty lips…

Knuckles took a deep breath of the sea air, eyes still closed. "If I try hard, I almost feel like I'm back there again…"

DJ simply couldn't resist anymore. He had no clue what he was doing, but it seemed like it would be all right.

Knuckles' eyes popped open when she felt the merest whisper of a touch brush across her lips. She gawked at DJ, who was slightly flushed, and definitely not from the cool temperatures.

"I'm sorry," DJ said quickly. "I didn't mean…" he trailed off into sheepish silence.

"Shut up, DJ."

"Huh?"

Not really knowing what she was doing (and wondering why she was doing it) Knuckles grabbed DJ by the collar and kissed him as thoroughly as she could manage.

* * *

"This is awful," Graham said firmly. "Seriously."

"Yeah," Pockets said. "But what can you do?"

"Not a lot," Graham said, shaking his head. "Except hope."

"That's not a lot of help."

"It's still something to do," Graham retorted. "Is there _anything_ edible on this rock?"

"Probably not," Pockets replied, shaking his head. "Seaweed, maybe."

"Gross."

"Yeah."

The two boys fell into silence. Graham looked up when he heard movement and saw Levi approaching.

"You two all right?" she asked.

"I guess," said Pockets, shrugging and putting on a brave face. Graham knew for a fact that Pockets had what was probably the worst chest cold in human history, but didn't say anything. It wasn't something the leaders had to be bothered with.

Not that Graham felt spectacular himself.

Levi gave them the fisheye for a moment, then nodded and walked towards the next cluster of refugees. 

"Think we should've said something?" Pockets asked anxiously. "I mean, after not being sick for however long our immune systems are probably shot."

"We'll live," Graham said firmly. "They have enough to worry about already."

"If you say so."

Pockets spent most of the night dry heaving.

* * *

It was a strange feeling, Jasmine mused.

The days and nights were blurring together. She had no idea how long she had been in this strange twilight realm, hovering on the edge of oblivion. It was like those times when she'd gone on all-out benders and hadn't come up for air for a week. But she knew for a fact she hadn't been taking anything.

"You all right, Jasmine?" asked Trevor, a kid who looked nine but had the mind of a twenty-year old. "You look strange."

"I am strange," said Jasmine, giggling slightly. Her bright red hair looked strange against her pale, sweaty skin. Like blood. Trevor shuddered.

"You're getting worse."

"Worse? What's worse?" Jasmine asked, trying not to laugh. "I don't feel like my sinuses are going to explode, so that's better!"

"Jazz…"

"Oh, shut up. I'm fine. Just… sleepy…"

* * *

"Levi?"

"Hmm?"

"We're in a bad way," Peter said. "I think a lot of the others are getting sick."

Levi didn't look up, just nodded. "I know. They all say they're fine, but they're not. Some of them look ready to die where they stand."

"We're really in it this time," Peter said wearily, flopping down on the sand, being careful not to spray sand onto Levi or Griffin, who was asleep in Levi's lap. "Up past our eyeballs."

"I know," Levi murmured. "Nothing to be done now. Unless Morgan changes her mind. I'll tell you if I see the sky fall down."

"Don't tell anyone, but I can't help but agree," Peter said softly.

Levi didn't answer. She kept staring at Griffin's face, gently stroking his tousled hair with one hand. He hadn't awoken in far too long. Anyone might have thought he was dead if not for the sound of raspy, unhealthy breathing.

"I'm running out of hope," she murmured at long last. "I can't see past this."

"Me neither," Peter said.

They didn't sleep that night. And when the sun arose the next morning, they still held silent sentinel. 

* * *

Morgan felt like she was walking through the outdoor hospitals of the Civil War. But this was far, far worse- there were no soldiers here. No prisoners of war, no blood, not even any adults. Just children, caught in the extended death throes that the Plague caused.

From what she could see most had been ill since they arrived, but so mildly they hadn't said a word. Only Griffin had had an outlet—his mother—for his fear and pain. They had been without sickness so long that now the virus penetrated to their very core, flattening any defenses their bodies might have summoned up.

It all boiled down to a mass of pain, moaning together on the Miami sand.

Morgan sank onto the sand, watching. Just watching.

A thirteen-year-old girl was spread out on her back, giggling hysterically, her eyes blank and staring. Her violently red hair mingled with the blood from her cracked skin and her bloody nose. Beside her was a nine-year-old boy, rocking back and forth on his haunches and emitting a low, keening sound like a wounded animal. 

One boy was spread-eagled on his stomach, dry heaving and bringing up only blood and spit. 

Morgan could see her brother and sister in her mind's eye, the seven-year-old twins who were so alike they even died the same. Curled up in a ball, sobbing from the pain, hurting so much that it was a relief for everyone—even Morgan—when they passed on, beyond pain.

A dry sob rose in Morgan's throat.

Never before had she wanted to escape so badly. She wanted to hide away from the world, to just cry until she found oblivion in sleep.

"Morgan?"

Morgan jumped. DJ gently laid a hand on her shoulder, gazing at her sympathetically. "It's time to go," he said quietly. "We can only hurt them now."

Morgan let DJ pull her to her feet. She looked around in a daze, seeing the dying and the already-mourning figures of the only hope she'd seen in almost four years.

"I wish…"

"What?"

Morgan shook her head. "Nothing."

But as they left, ignored and unnoticed, all Morgan could think was that she hoped they found some absolution, and that the survivors found some sort of home.

* * *

"That's it, then," Levi said bitterly, watching as DJ and Morgan disappeared. "We're on our own."

Peter didn't answer. Levi glanced at him, wondering why he didn't speak.

She swallowed a scream.

He was transparent, like a colored ghost. He was staring at his own hand, a mystified expression on his face.

"Peter!" Levi's heart was thundering in her chest. She slid Griffin onto the sand and lunged forward, seizing Peter's wrist.

Peter's startled eyes flew to her own. "Levi?" He looked vaguely frightened, like someone whose mind is so fried they've passed beyond sensation.

And then he vanished.

Levi screamed aloud then, screamed in pain and rage and threw herself onto the still-warm sand where he had been, her resolve utterly broken. She sobbed with the desperation of someone who cannot accept what they have seen.

Everyone turned to see.

Morgan turned to see.

And it all fell into place in a way it never had before, and suddenly she _knew._ She knew what had happened without asking, _knew_ that every word Peter and Levi and Knuckles had ever spoken was true.

A soft wind started blowing, ignored by the sick and the mourning. It seemed almost blue, as if icy cold, but it was warm. Wonderfully warm, and perfumed with the scents of a half-forgotten paradise.

Levi lifted her head, tears forgotten. She saw Morgan's distant form, and felt an electric shock that went right down to her fingertips. She stopped thinking then.

****

"The power and the blood are here, only the place is needed."

The world exploded.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The world shuddered, bucked the entire enclave into the air with frightening fierceness. Screams rent the air. Levi clutched at Griffin, trying to protect him from the earth's wrath.

Blackness swooped down from the sky, covered them in all heavy darkness like a woolen blanket. Levi felt like she could not breathe, her chest felt tight. Nothing felt real or solid except Griffin, trembling in her arms and retching.

The light came rushing back with an audible whooshing noise, filling her entire existence with glorious, life-giving warmth and illumination.

Warm seawater frothed around her ankles, wet sand squished between her toes. A fragrant breeze lifted her hair off her shoulders and seemed to fill her soul with promise. Griffin let out a little gasp and looked around with true coherency for the first time in over a day.

"We're home," Levi whispered, every nerve ending tingling with excitement and wonder. A grin spread across her weary face. "WE'RE HOME!" she yelled, hugging Griffin and letting out a whoop.

Griffin giggled and rose into the air. "Look, Mommy! I'm not stuck down anymore!"

Levi laughed with sheer joy and spun in a circle with her arms flung out, almost not believing it all. But it was real- so much more real than Morgan and DJ's world.

Suddenly her chest tightened. She looked around desperately- if Never-Land could materialize out of nowhere, maybe…

"Lyris."

Chills ran up Levi's spine at the whispered word. Turning slowly, she looked to see the speaker.

Peter was standing in the sea-foam, looking tousled and windblown as if he had just flow a great distance at speed. He looked a little more care-worn, a little wiser, and so utterly wonderful that Levi almost felt she couldn't breathe with the power of it all.

He strode toward her with an even, measured stride, eyes flickering with so many thoughts and emotions it was impossible to track them with any certainty. Levi's breath hitched in her chest as he stopped before her, meeting her gaze with his own.

"Hi," Levi whispered. Peter's lips quirked into a wry smile.

"Hi."

Levi flung herself into Peter's arms, shuddering with emotion-spawned sobs. Peter clutched her close without thinking, the pair of them holding each other as if afraid it was only a cruel dream, that the other would vanish at any instant.

"Da!" Griffin came swooping in from apparently out of nowhere, tackling his father and wrapping his small arms about Peter's neck. "You disappeared and now you're back! And we're home again! And I'm all better!"

Peter laughed gaily and pried Griffin's hands away so he could breathe properly. "I'm happy too," he said, eyes glittering with barely contained laughter. "Go find your friends, 'Fin."

"Okay!" And Griffin flew off towards a distant cluster of Lost, once again the hyperactive, short-attention-span child that Levi knew so well. She wanted to cry from sheer relief.

This all fled from her mind when Peter seized her by the upper arms and kissed her with almost manic intensity, which she gladly returned.

When the came up for air, Levi laughed breathlessly. "Miss me?"

"More than you could ever imagine."

It was then that Mad came and grabbed Levi about the waist, swinging her around and talking so fast she couldn't understand a word. And then TK and Fox appeared, and then Quin. The afternoon dissolved into a long, confused tangle of friends meeting each other with relief and mourning the death of those who would never see Never-Land again. It was a glorious day.

Levi threw back her head and laughed for the first time in who knew how long.

They danced through the skies, laughter, joy, and relief filling their entire beings. Griffin was not sick anymore, they could fly again, and they were _home_.

They paused, high in the air, and soaked in the sight of the island that spread out before them. Griffin held his mother's hand and made various oohing noises. Levi and Peter each wrapped an arm around the other, looking utterly satisfied with themselves.

"We made it," Levi said. "We're really home."

"I almost thought it would never happen," Peter mused. "That we'd be stuck there."

Levi shook her head. "Nah- we didn't belong there. We belong here."

"Well, wherever we belong," Peter replied, meeting Levi's gaze, "we're still all together."

They kissed again, ignoring Griffin's childish protests. It was a kiss of mingled relief, happiness, hope, and love, and rolled into a single touch.

Peter pulled back first. "Love you," he murmured, brushing his thumb across her lower lip. A delighted shiver ran up Levi's spine.

"Love you more," she teased.

"Impossible."

"What about me?"

"And you," Peter said, growling playfully and rubbing his knuckles across Griffin's head. Griffin squealed and he and Peter went into a mid-air good-natured tussle.

Levi had never felt so glorious.

* * *

Morgan gazed with new awareness at the overcast sky, wondering if her new friends were happy. She did not bother wondering if she would see them again- she knew she wouldn't. It didn't stop her from longing desperately that she had followed them.

"Don't worry," said DJ, grasping Morgan's shoulder, being careful of her wound. "Maybe someday, we'll see them again."

"And until then?"

DJ grinned lopsidedly, hiding his own ache behind a playful façade that didn't fool anyone. "Why, we tell everyone else. Someone has to keep the hope alive."

"I suppose so."

* * *

Janus pulled himself up onto the bare rock of the cavern floor, groaning. Every fiber of his body ached. He supposed some good had come out of it- Never-Land had needed a good renewing, anyway, but he still hurt all over.

Morgan would live, he decided, as he stretched languidly. She would never stop believing, which was a good thing. With only two teenagers keeping them afloat, they needed all the belief they needed.

Janus smirked to himself. Of course, it would soon be three. There was no accounting for teenage hormones. And hormones being what they were, he knew perfectly well that there would eventually be a whole posse of children to keep the hope alive.

But for the moment, he just wished someone would give him a backrub.

* * *

Knuckles swung her legs over the edge of the platform, watching the dawn with new appreciation. For a while there she'd wondered if she would ever see daybreak over the mountains again. And yet…

Someone sat beside her. Knuckles didn't look up- she was too deeply entrenched in her own thoughts.

"You miss him."

Knuckles sighed. "You are too perceptive for your own good, Peter."

She heard the smile in his voice. "Just enough, I think. But you do miss DJ, anyone could see it."

"Yes, I do. It doesn't make sense."

"Love never does."

"You would know, wouldn't you," Knuckles said wearily. "What am I to do, then?" She turned to question Peter with her eyes.

Peter shrugged. "Follow your own heart, I suppose. All any of us can do."

"I know where my heart wants to go, but my head isn't so clear." Knuckles pulled her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. "Any advice?"

Peter shook his head, making his bangs flop into his eyes. He brushed them away impatiently. "No, I'm afraid not. But whatever you do, I'll stand behind you, along with every one else on this island." He smiled teasingly. "I think DJ was rather smitten himself."

Knuckles sighed. "I know."

"Well." Peter stood and patted Knuckles' shoulder awkwardly. "Just let me know, all right? I'll be needing a new kitchen hand."

He left, leaving Knuckles alone with her own thoughts. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, but only knew when she emerged from her reverie the sun was well above the eastern horizon. She made up her mind, and went off to find Peter.

Peter was standing on the Council platform, studying a map. He looked up and grinned good-naturedly when she landed.

"Hello, Knuckles."

"I'm going back," Knuckles declared. "I know it's stupid, but…"

"It's all right, Knuckles," said Peter gently. "You needn't explain yourself to me."

"I'm going immediately. Would you… say good-bye to them for me? This is hard enough as it is."

Peter nodded, understanding flickering in his clear hazel eyes. "I will."

The last anyone in Never-Land saw of Knuckles, she was a distant speck in the sky.

* * *

DJ poked the fire morosely. Morgan was asleep, curled up in a little ball beside the miniscule fire. He, though, could not fall asleep.

It had been two weeks, and he still missed her. He felt rather silly, but he couldn't change it. 

They'd done all right since the strangers' vanished- they'd returned to the island and had fashioned something of a life for themselves. It meant relearning the skills of ancient man, but at least they were alive. A bit depressing, really.

"Hello, DJ."

DJ stood sharply and whirled, clutching his stick like it was a firebrand. The figure just outside the firelight chuckled.

"I won't hurt you, silly." It was a girl with a heavy Australian accent. DJ's hand went slack and his heartbeat sped up.

She stepped into the firelight, looking healthier than the last time he'd seen her, wearing the same clothes but cleaner. DJ didn't think he'd seen anyone so wonderful.

"Hi," he said breathlessly.

"Hi," she replied.

That was all, really.


	9. Epilogue

Epilogue

Griffin shifted anxiously from one foot to the other, wanting to do something with his hands and unable to. Never-Land was just as anxious as he- he could feel it in the ambient like some great maroon blotch on the normal playfulness of the place.

His mother was almost quiet now. Griffin wasn't sure if it were good or bad- at least she wasn't screaming, but that didn't mean anything. Sometimes that was worse than screaming, really.

Trying to calm himself, Griffin sat down on the floorboards and tried to sink into Never-Land's pulse, the way Janus had taught him after everyone had realized why Peter felt head-blind suddenly. After the Great Catastrophe, Never-Land had latched onto a new anchor- Griffin, only five at the time, now a great deal more mature and the grand old age of seven and a half. 

It wasn't working. His own thoughts kept him floating along on the surface of the island's aura. Irritated, he began counting cracks in the floor.

The door opened. Griffin was on his feet in an instant. Peter smothered a laugh, which Griffin thought highly inappropriate.

"Calm down, 'Fin," he said. "It's all right now. You can come in." He stepped back to allow Griffin access and gestured for him to enter. His nervousness redoubled, Griffin entered the dimly lit room.

He could see Levi sitting up in the big feather bed, holding something. Suddenly intensely curious, Griffin crept forward to the edge of the bed. Levi looked up at him and smiled.

"Hey," she said, speaking softly. "Look what we found." And she shifted some of the blankets in her arms, and lo and behold there was a baby inside. Griffin leaned closer to try and see. He'd never seen a baby that close up before- babies were little fat blobs the grown-ups kept out of reach until they learned to fly.

"This is your new sister," Levi said. Griffin made a face, eliciting laughter from both his parents.

"What're girls good for?"

"I'm a girl," Levi said, intensely amused. "Besides, you're her brother so it's your job to look out for her and keep her safe if Da and I can't. It's a big responsibility."

"I get to do grown-up stuff?" Suddenly this baby idea wasn't so bad, Griffin decided, if it meant he got to do more stuff.

"A little," Levi agreed. "Sit up here and you can hold her."

Griffin scrambled up onto the bed and sat cross-legged on the coverlet beside his mother. Once he was situated, Levi eased the sleepy baby girl into her brother's arms. Peter sat on the edge of the bed to give added security, should Griffin loose his grip or some other equally ridiculous disaster take place.

Griffin examined the baby's face. She was all red and squashed-looking, and wrinkly. There was a light fuzz of dark hair on her head. Griffin looked fascinated when she yawned.

"What's her name?" he asked, realizing he didn't know his own sister's name. Some brother he was.

Levi and Peter exchanged a glance that Griffin found extremely confusing.

"Spring," Levi said softly. "Her name's Spring."


End file.
